


It's High Time That You Love Me

by oceans4jinyoung



Series: You're Ocean Waves Don't Crash For Me [2]
Category: GOT7
Genre: Cheating Jinyoung, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Pining, Post Break Up, Side Story, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:47:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 30,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21516262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceans4jinyoung/pseuds/oceans4jinyoung
Summary: Youngjae had accepted that his future didn't lie with Jaebeom.  But after Jinyoung leaves a trail of destruction, Youngjae's relationship with Jaebeom is somehow left more complicated than before.  But more hopeful as well.
Relationships: Choi Youngjae/Im Jaebum | JB
Series: You're Ocean Waves Don't Crash For Me [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1550818
Comments: 82
Kudos: 152





	1. The Nameless Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome back!
> 
> This story is a continuation of [Your Ocean Waves Don't Crash For Me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19718542/chapters/46666684) and explores a different aspect of that timeline. If you haven't read the main story yet, I highly recommend it as it will give a lot of context to what's happening in this one.
> 
> I made a **Spotify playlist** specifically for this story, so check that out.  
> [HIGH TIME](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0RhNjIKIE9p10Rc7zbiq31?si=UH4BB6HoQa-MmxSrsFiVtA)
> 
> Come yell at me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/oceans4jinyoung) and [Curious Cat](https://curiouscat.me/oceans4jinyoung)!!

Youngjae had been tangled from the start. From the first time Jaebeom barged into his apartment with his arms and his heart already full of Jinyoung. The interaction was momentary. Friendly yet fleeting. Barely an exchange of words between them. And yet Youngjae had to lock himself in his room for an hour trying to calm down.

He was younger then. New to the city and not accustomed to the handsome men of Seoul walking into his life like it was their runway. Though, even as time passed and his catalogue for handsome faces grew, none of them ever made the impact Jaebeom did.

And Youngjae had to get used to that. Get used to Jaebeom showing his face with little warning. And, more so, he had to get used to that face being nuzzled into the side of Jinyoung’s neck when they watched movies on the couch in the dead of night. To that scent of Jaebeom’s cooking that was never intended for him. To that sound of Jinyoung’s headboard hitting the wall which he never dared to bring up.

It would have been one thing if Jaebeom had just been a pretty face. It would have been so much easier. But instead, Jaebeom had to be kind and thoughtful and stoic and calming. This perfect juxtaposition of soft and hard. And finding that out in bits and pieces, through their brief interactions, made it so, so much harder. And though their interactions weren’t deep, they were always pleasant. Jaebeom complimenting his piano playing as he practiced. Asking how his week was going. Small talk about classes. About the weather. Anything. Youngjae would have discussed anything with him as long as he could hold the blacks of his eyes for a fraction of the time Jinyoung got to.

Because Jaebeom was always that. The moon through the trees. Only giving himself away in flashes and crescents. The only light source burning through the night. Always just out of reach no matter how long and how far Youngjae followed. Maybe in some universe, Youngjae inhabited some mountainside where he could scale the summit. Where he could be tall enough to reach him. To see him unobstructed. And despite the thinness of the air making his head spin and the chill of the night, he could see Jaebeom fully and uncover that elusiveness. But that wasn’t this universe and Youngjae never stopped cursing himself for running circles trying to find it.

It felt momentarily better when Youngjae started dating. Sure, now there was someone else and he loved him enough. But it was still hard to be on double dates with Jinyoung and Jaebeom and watch them wordlessly communicating across the table and wish he had that. And the line between wishing that he had that _type_ of relationship and wishing he had _that_ relationship with Jaebeom was a tight rope he had learned to walk masterfully.

But that bastard from Jeju left in the night with only a letter on the bedside table. It wasn’t like they were engaged or anything. But they’d been seeing each other for about eight months. And he had been Youngjae’s first real anything. His first boyfriend, his first-time having sex, the first person he really fell in love with, and now, his first heartbreak. And maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if it hadn’t been perfectly clear that Youngjae was the reason for the break. The letter had detailed that it was Youngjae’s fault. That he was too clingy. Too involved. Putting too much pressure on the relationship. When he tried to call, tried to apologize for his accused offenses, his number had been blocked. Any light he brought to Youngjae’s life being extinguished and leaving him flooded with darkness so suddenly that it took him weeks to feel his way around his own life again.

It was two weeks after and Youngjae was still wrecked. Still crying himself to sleep at Jinyoung’s side. Still unable to eat much. Unable to go to class. Luckily, Jinyoung had put on his best doctor voice to call his professors. He told them that Youngjae was very sick and needed bedrest. Which didn’t feel too far from the truth.

He was lying in bed. Staring out his window at the trees as they fluttered in the wind. Feeling that juxtaposition of numbness and pain through the stillness. Like if he closed his eyes for long enough, the pain would consume him entirely. Swallow him whole and let his body just surrender. Give out from all of it.

He could hear the sound of the shower in the bathroom. Screeching and rushing white noise.

“Hey,” a warm voice cut through the blankness.

Youngjae looked over to his doorway, seeing Jaebeom leaning in the frame. His arms crossed against his chest. His face looking tight with worry.

“Jinyoung’s showering,” Jaebeom pointed a thumb towards the bathroom. “I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”

Youngjae sighed, letting his head drop back down. Feeling that gaping hole in his chest only expand further. “Just peachy.”

“I’m sorry, Youngjae,” he murmured, scratching at the back of his neck. “For the record, I never liked that guy.”

“Yeah?”

“I mean what was there to like?” Jaebeom scoffed. “He never introduced you to his friends. He seemed to only want you when it was convenient for him. He would tell you he loves you and then demand space. He didn’t even like you using the word boyfriend.”

Youngjae fell silent. That voice in his head telling him he should have seen this coming grew louder. But the malice in Jaebeom’s voice was a surprise. He didn’t know Jaebeom felt that way. He didn’t even know Jaebeom had been watching his relationship so closely.

“What did he say?” Jaebeom asked. “In the letter.”

Youngjae sighed. He had read it an infinite number of times. He could probably recite it word for word. “He said I was too clingy. He knew I was more invested in him than he was in me.”

“Bullshit,” Jaebeom shook his head. “So what? You wanted something real. You wanted commitment. And he couldn’t give that to you. So, he gaslights you into thinking it’s your fault? Fuck him.”

Youngjae shrugged. “Maybe he’s right. Maybe I should be hooking up with strangers in clubs. Exchanging numbers but not names. Maybe I should stop expecting someone like you to come along.”

Youngjae only realized the words had come out when he saw Jaebeom’s whole demeanor freeze. “I mean,” he sat up, struggling to get the words out. “Someone like you are for Jinyoung. You guys are just so committed to each other. But when I try and find that, I get told I’m weird and needy.”

Jaebeom came forward, sitting on the edge of Youngjae’s bed. He kept his hands in his lap, but his eyes seemed to reach out. He licked his lips. “Where’s the Youngjae I know?” he asked, shaking his head. “The one who doesn’t care what others think of him? The one who always lets other’s opinions roll off his back?”

Youngjae felt the stir of his chest at Jaebeom’s proximity. He held tight to that numbness in an attempt to smother anything else he was feeling. He sighed. “Don’t be so obvious, hyung.”

“About what?” Jaebeom said, seeming slightly panicked.

“About the fact that you’ve never had your heart broken.”

Jaebeom was silent for a moment. “I’m sorry. You’re right.” He pursed his lips. “But,” Jaebeom shrugged his shoulders a little. “He wasn’t the right one. And the right one is out there.”

“Could you give him my number then?” Youngjae gave a heartless huff of laughter.

“I’m serious, Youngjae,” Jaebeom reached out now, placing a hand against Youngjae’s leg. “He’s out there. And he’s a damn lucky guy to get to spend the rest of his life with you.”

Youngjae looked up at him and he looked back. Youngjae was wishing for the impossible. Wishing he could grab Jaebeom by his neck and pull him over him. Kiss him till the salt on his cheeks became Jaebeom’s as well. Wishing that Jaebeom could fist his t-shirt, stretching it until it would never be the same again. Until neither of them would be the same again.

The sound of running water coming from the bathroom suddenly went quiet. “You should go,” Youngjae sighed. “Sounds like Jinyoung’s shower is over.”

Jaebeom got up, backing himself towards the door. “Feel better, Youngjae.” He forced a smile. But it was layered with something that Youngjae couldn’t read.

\---

It must have been Youngjae’s fourth year of undergrad. Or was it the year after that? It didn’t really matter. Jinyoung and Youngjae had their joint birthday party at their apartment. Schoolmates poured shots until there were stars in Youngjae’s eyes that he could see reflected in Jinyoung’s. Jaebeom brought out a cake and Youngjae, in his haze, could almost imagine that the smile wide on Jaebeom’s face was only for him. The crowd sang happy birthday through alcohol-roughened throats and Jinyoung pressed their faces together until their cheeks hurt from the force. He held them tight until their wishes were made and their candles were blown out. And when Youngjae looked into his kind, round eyes, crinkling around the edges, he saw someone he couldn’t live without.

Jinyoung had a natural magnetism that drew every eye wherever he went. And part of him seemed oblivious to it. The way people floundered in his charisma never phasing him. But another part of him seemed overly conscious of it. It showed sometimes in the way he tried to quell his own magic, whether it was through his modest style or his stony pensiveness. Almost as if he himself knew that if he let his true colors shine for all to see, they’d be too bright for this world. Or maybe it was because he wanted to save that magic for those he deemed worthy. Keeping it locked away from strangers yet spreading it freely among those closest to him in a way that had Youngjae knowing that, despite whatever circumstances, he loved Jinyoung like a brother.

The party had ended and the apartment had cleared out. It must have been three or four in the morning. The living room was only dimly lit by the fluorescent shine of the kitchen and Youngjae was collecting empty glasses from the coffee table. Jaebeom emerged from Jinyoung’s room, closing the door behind him softly. He was in pajamas now, hair ruffled and messy.

“Jinyoung asleep?” Youngjae asked, his voice coming out quiet.

Jaebeom seemed a little caught off guard by the question. “Yeah, yeah,” he nodded. “He’s definitely asleep.” He went to the kitchen, grabbing a clean glass to fill it with water. He leaned against the kitchen counter, gulping it down swiftly.

When Youngjae came in with his arms full, Jaebeom immediately put his glass down, reaching out to try to grab a few that were precariously balancing between his arms. He took them to the sink and started running the water. “Just leave the rest on the counter,” he beckoned his head. “I’ll take care of them.”

Youngjae looked at him for a moment. “No, no,” he shook his head. “You don’t have to do that.”

Jaebeom huffed a laugh. “I want to. Just let me help.”

Youngjae sunk his shoulders. “You’re a guest.”

Jaebeom smiled, wide and bright. “And it’s your birthday,” he started washing the glasses.

Youngjae surrendered, placing the rest of the glasses down and hoisting himself up onto the counter next to the sink. The fluorescent overhead light of the kitchen was harsh. Youngjae could see how it bleached out the warm tones of Jaebeom’s skin as he stared down into the sink. Youngjae’s eyes trailed down to his neck, seeing the bright bloom of a fresh hickey under his ear. He could picture how the shape of Jinyoung’s mouth inflicted the imprint. He felt the desire to put one alongside it. See which one better complimented the color of Jaebeom’s skin.

The clues added up a little too late. The ruffled hair, the pajamas, the hickey, the unmistakable scent following Jaebeom around. Jinyoung and Jaebeom had just had sex. And Youngjae’s belly was warm with residual alcohol and his mind was trying not to tumble down a hole of picturing Jaebeom compromised. But all he could imagine were his hands gripping that messy hair and being encircled by his broadness and the thought alone was eliciting an ache from his chest.

Jaebeom looked up at him in quick glances between motions as he washed the glasses. “What are you staring at?”

Admittedly, Youngjae was still a little drunk which is probably why he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and carefully wrapping his hand around the base of Jaebeom’s neck.

Jaebeom’s eyes shot up to him, dropping the glass he had been working on. His mouth going small. But despite the surprise in his eyes, he didn’t pull away.

Youngjae’s thumb reached up, cradling Jaebeom’s neck and running over the marked skin. It was soft and tender like the bruise of an apple.

“What’s that like?” Youngjae whispered out.

“What?” Jaebeom’s mouth fell open, his eyes not straying from Youngjae’s.

“I don’t know,” Youngjae shrugged, pressing his thumb into the skin and noticing how Jaebeom didn’t flinch. “Having someone like that.”

“The sex?” Jaebeom questioned, the word sounding shy in his mouth. “Or-”

“No,” Youngjae shook his head. “Like having someone forever. Knowing that you’ll never leave their side.”

“It’s…” Jaebeom paused. “Good. Comfortable.”

Youngjae hummed, letting his hand drop. “Do you ever think about alternate universes?”

“What do you mean?” Jaebeom’s mouth twitched up into a lopsided grin.

“Universes that have different outcomes than this one. Ones where you’re eight feet tall. Or have blue eyes. Or are the heir to a major pancake company,” Youngjae shrugged.

“Or the ones where you’re the one doing the dishes and I’m asking you about alternate universes,” Jaebeom looked up at him, eyes bright.

Youngjae smiled. “Do you ever think about the ones where you don’t end up with Jinyoung?”

Jaebeom looked back down, furrowing his brows as he intently tried to get an invisible mark out of one of the glasses. “I have a hard time imagining those ones,” he said more quietly.

“But they exist,” Youngjae reasoned.

Jaebeom nodded, “Surely.”

Youngjae licked his lips. His mouth still tasting like alcohol. His brain still hazed. His inhibitions still low. “I mean,” he huffed. “there’s universes where you and I end up together.” He looked down to his feet, rolling his ankle passively. Hiding his expression while looking out the side of his eyes for Jaebeom’s reaction.

Jaebeom straightened his shoulders, not looking up. “Statistically speaking, yes.”

“Do you think we’d be happy?” Youngjae smiled downward.

“In some of them,” Jaebeom nodded. His expression unreadable. “But there would be some where we’d be horrible for each other.”

Youngjae felt the burn of his chest. Holding onto a breath. When he spoke, the words were quieter than he anticipated. “Which one is this one?”

Jaebeom swallowed. His brows twitched together. He finished the glass he was working on and shut off the water. Putting his hands against the edge of the sink and leaning into them. He looked up to Youngjae. Their eyes meeting and it was too direct. Too close. Too much happening in the space between them. Jaebeom opened his mouth, pausing before he spoke. “This is the one where I’m with Jinyoung,” he said, firmly. “And you find someone who doesn’t make you share a place in their heart with someone else.”

Youngjae felt the burn of his chest move up into his throat and mouth. He took a deep breath. Seeing that light in Jaebeom that he couldn’t stop chasing.

“I’m going to bed,” Jaebeom stepped back from the sink. His mouth pulled up into a forced grin. “Happy birthday, Youngjae,” he said quietly before turning back towards Jinyoung’s room.

And after the door had shut, Youngjae felt the stutter of his chest rip through him. His eyes glossed but he blinked it away immediately. Promising himself that he wouldn’t cry for a boy who hadn’t even been his to begin with. So instead, he jumped off the counter. Turned off the kitchen lights and went to bed. Another year older, but none the wiser.

\---

Time passed. Semesters faded into each other. Jaebeom proposed and Jinyoung called Youngjae excited. He cheered for his friend before taking himself out to a bar and blacking out for himself. With the proposal, Jinyoung moved out and took any hope of seeing Jaebeom regularly with him. The house was quiet and lonely and Youngjae went out a little more. Drank a little too much. Made out with a few too many boys. All in an effort to compensate for the stillness. Even if all he had to fall back on was fabricated chaos.

And he could take that. He could take Jaebeom being happy and Jinyoung being happy and them living out their days in domestic bliss. God knows it had been years of him coming to terms with it.

What he couldn’t take was the way things unfolded. He got the first real date he had been on in two years. And it ended with Jinyoung pressed into his date’s neck in an alleyway. Because, when it came to love, Youngjae could never just have what he wanted. And lately, there was a pattern emerging in which all hopes of finding love were increasingly becoming eclipsed by Park Jinyoung.

And Youngjae was furious like he had never been before. He was furious that Jinyoung would even think to do something like that to Jaebeom who was perfect and blameless and everything Youngjae needed. But he told himself to drop it. He told himself that it wasn’t his narrative. It had never been. And he forgave Jinyoung.

But the weeks went by and Jinyoung was missing in action and Youngjae knew there must be something wrong and he was right. That’s when he saw them. At Seokchon Lake. Under the cherry blossoms. Kissing. His best friend and that foreign boy with the blonde hair and pointed smile. The thought of that was still sour in his mouth as he approached Jinyoung’s door.

He knocked, hearing the shuffling from inside. But when the door opened, it wasn’t Jinyoung.

Instead, it was him. His t-shirt too big and his mouth too open, melting into a smile that radiated that perfect mix of soft and hard.

“Hey,” there was a question in his eyes.

Youngjae sighed, finding it hard to look away from him. Feeling the way he quelled his anger immediately. Transformed it into something else. Something sweet and longing. Which was exactly how Jaebeom always made him feel.

“Hey,” Youngjae couldn’t help but smile though he had felt furious moments ago. “Uh...” he stuttered. “I was just here to return a book to Jinyoung. But if he isn’t ho-“

“Oh no,” Jaebeom shook his head. “He should be home soon. You can come in and wait for him.”

“Oh,” Youngjae hesitated. “It’s fine. You’re probably busy and-“

“I insist,” Jaebeom opened the door wide for him.

Youngjae stilled for a moment, leaning between options, before he stepped forward into the apartment. “How have you been?” he asked, going to sit himself down on the couch.

Jaebeom sat down at the other side, crossing his legs and leaning forward. His eyes darting away and his mouth twisting tight. He licked his lips. Youngjae watched it too closely. “Good,” Jaebeom’s tone went up, artificial. He rubbed a hand against his eye. “Can’t complain,” he sighed.

And the words weren’t there, but they didn’t need to be. Something about him was off. Youngjae had known him for over four years now. And though he wasn’t Jinyoung, wasn’t his best friend, Jaebeom was something different. Somehow holding an equally important feeling. As if placed in Youngjae’s path deliberately. And that feeling was perhaps why it was so hard for him to let go of the idea of Jaebeom. However illogical and immoral it often felt.

“Hyung,” Youngjae said, his voice going soft. “If there is something you’re dealing with. You can talk to me about it. I’m your friend too, you know.”

Jaebeom’s face went soft. Like he was letting his guard down momentarily.

Youngjae felt his chest tighten. Like he knew he had this small moment where Jaebeom would be open and fair and not trying desperately to keep up appearances like he always was. But Youngjae knew this window of opportunity was fleeting. He knew he had to use this time wisely. Carefully. “Is it Jinyoung?” he said, his voice low and quiet. Emphasizing that this was a conversation for their ears only.

Jaebeom paused momentarily. Thinking. “He’s just been busy,” Jaebeom shook his head. “He’s a little stressed with his thesis and everything.”

Youngjae licked his lips. “Yeah, stressed,” he huffed under his breath, not even thinking about it.

Jaebeom finally looked up at him. His eyes cold and confused. His face tight. Asking with his expression before opening his mouth. “Youngjae,” he swallowed. “Is there,” he blinked. “Is there something you know?”

Youngjae sat up straight. His heartbeat skipping as he realized what he had let slip out. And how Jaebeom had immediately grabbed onto it like it was all he had.

Youngjae had thought he had gotten pretty good at this whole ‘in love with my best friend’s fiancé’ thing over the years. Certainly, there were times that were more difficult. But seeing all this pent-up hurt radiating despite Jaebeom’s attempt to squash it, knowing it was by Jinyoung’s hand, that made it harder than it had ever been.

And there had been so much residual poison lining his mouth since he’d seen Jinyoung and Mark that the next words he spoke just slipped their way out without restraint. “You don’t deserve to be hurt, hyung,” his voice blunt. “You’re too good for this.”

Jaebeom’s wide chest seemed to hold a breath. “What?” he blinked. “What are you talking about?”

Youngjae’s mind echoed the same message over and over again. _If you don’t tell him now, he’ll just end up more hurt later._ He licked his lips. Opened his mouth.

And with that, they both heard the punching of numbers into the door. Jaebum rushed to get up. Putting distance between them by slotting himself into the doorway of the kitchen. Their eyes still locked but their chests tight with anticipation as Jinyoung interjected himself yet again.

\---

It wasn’t too long after that encounter that Youngjae was practicing piano one morning. Trying desperately to get this piece down for an upcoming exam.

He heard a knock at the door. He groaned. Dragging himself off the bench, wondering who would dare interrupt him when he was deep in practice.

He opened the door and suddenly his exam was the furthest thing from his mind because Jaebeom was there. His broad shoulders. His pointed features. His face that mix of hard and soft that Youngjae’s mind wouldn’t let him forget no matter how many nameless crushes he tried to drown in.

“What-“ Youngjae felt breathless.

“Hey,” Jaebeom said. His voice a little too quick. His hands knotting together a little too roughly. “Can I talk to you?”

Youngjae couldn’t move for a moment. Surely, he could consider Jaebeom a friend but not the type of friend that would show up unannounced with the kind of look in his eyes like he was in desperate need of something only Youngjae could provide.

“Yeah,” Youngjae finally choked out, letting him inside.

Jaebeom went and sat down in a chair.

He joined him, carefully propping himself on the edge of the couch. Not making himself too comfortable. His hands delving into the pocket of his sweatshirt. Suddenly nervous and clammy.

“Youngjae,” Jaebeom said. And it sounded different than any word he’s ever heard him say. “I know you know something. About Jinyoung. About what’s going on.”

Youngjae’s felt himself flush. He looked up into his eyes. They were penetrating and impatient.

“Please,” Jaebeom reached out, touching his knee. “I need to know what’s going on.”

Youngjae looked at where Jaebeom’s hand was against his leg. He suddenly felt lightheaded and woozy, wondering when it got so damn hot. “Hyung,” he breathed, looking back up at him. “I can’t.”

“Youngjae,” he repeated. “I’m not leaving until you tell me.”

His mind tinkered. He saw flashes of Jinyoung’s face. Heard snippets of their last talk. Remembered how he stormed out. He felt that mixture of residual anger and guilt. That unsolid ground where he didn’t know what a good friend was supposed to do in that situation. Unsure of the line between supporting and enabling. Still feeling just as lost as he was that day. “I told him I wouldn’t tell you. I promised.”

Jaebeom’s eyes were focused. Dark and intense like a new moon. Setting their sights on Youngjae. Not hesitating. He pressed his lips into a thin line before speaking. “If he’s told you something…”

Youngjae shook his head. Feeling like it was all too much. Jaebeom’s closeness and persistence wearing him down, piece by piece. “He didn’t tell me anything. I wasn’t supposed to find out.”

“I know he’s your best friend,” Jaebeom reasoned. “But whatever is going on with him is hurting both of us. And I don’t want to see him get hurt. I don’t think you do either.”

Youngjae’s stomach dropped. When he spoke, it was soft and unsure. “I don’t want to see either of you getting hurt,” he rushed to say.

“You know what’s going on,” Jaebeom nodded, like he was sure. “That’s why he’s been staying over here so much.”

Youngjae’s mouth twisted along with his chest. He sighed hard. “He hasn’t been staying over here.”

Jaebeom blinked, clouding. “But he just saw you yesterday,” he murmured. “And he slept over at your house last weekend. And he took care of you when you were sick the week before that. And-“

“Hyung,” Youngjae huffed. He looked at him, watching the way his face kept somersaulting between confusion and realization and back to confusion again. As if when one question was answered, five more sprang up in its place.

Jaebeom seemed to understand the connotation. That Jinyoung hadn’t been where he said he had. He closed his mouth. His chest expanding. His eyes growing distant momentarily before sharpening again. He slowly got up. He stepped closer to Youngjae. Reached out and grabbed his shoulders softly, looking down at him.

Youngjae looked up into Jaebeom’s eyes. Seeing how desperate they were. “Youngjae,” he spoke just above a whisper. “If you know something is going on. Please,” he begged. His eyes growing glossy. “Just tell me,” he looked scared. “I’m sick of not knowing.”

The look in Jaebeom’s eyes made his heart stir. He had never seen him like this. Afraid. The Jaebeom he knew wasn’t afraid of anything. He was strong and confident, the constant that everyone in his life leaned on him to be.

The words repeated in Youngjae’s mind.

If you don’t tell him now, he’ll just end up more hurt later.

Youngjae’s skin crawled. The words sputtered out of him, “He’s been seeing someone else.”

Jaebeom swallowed. His eyes went sharp as his brows furrowed together. “What?”

Youngjae’s chest heaved for air. “He’s cheating on you.”

Jaebeom froze before shaking his head. “No,” he stepped back, away from Youngjae. “No. You must be mistaken,” he blinked. “Jinyoung wouldn’t. He couldn’t-“

“Hyung,” Youngjae stopped him. His stomach turning. “I’ve seen them together. Twice now.”

Jaebeom’s hands slipped behind his own neck, intertwining his fingers. His features suddenly putting up distance. He kept shaking his head. “It’s probably just someone from his program. It’s just a friend. You’re just mistak-”

Youngjae’s felt the nerves well up inside him and sputter out his mouth. “I’ve seen them kiss, hyung!”

Jaebeom twisted his eyes closed for a moment. Breaking his hands and roughing one over his face. He turned away, hiding his expression. He stared out the window at the trees outside that were budding fresh spring leaves. He was quiet. The white noise of his thoughts filling the space with their chaotic energy.

Youngjae took a breath. He got up, coming closer behind him. He steadied himself. “I don’t know much about it,” he shook his head. “I don’t know for sure how long. I just know that it’s been happening. And he’s in too deep.”

Jaebeom looked back at him. His voice sharp as a knife. “What do you mean? In too deep?” his eyes narrow, accusatory.

Youngjae’s shoulders jolted. Jaebeom had never spoken to him with so much malice in his voice. And it took him a moment to calm down, knowing that Jaebeom wasn’t angry at him. This wasn’t about Youngjae. Nothing ever was. He sighed. “He thinks he loves this guy. He made it clear that he doesn’t plan on leaving him. Or telling you.”

Jaebeom was quiet for a long time. Turning back towards the window. Youngjae could see his arms crossed, fingers nervously drumming. Youngjae wanted nothing more than to take his hands and tell him it was going to be okay. That he didn’t need this. That he needed someone who looked at him like he was the ground beneath their feet. That that someone was him.

It felt like hours before Jaebeom spoke again. “Youngjae,” his voice was firm. He didn’t look at him. “If this is some kind of lie,” he started. His voice unreadable. “If… if this has anything to do with your… feelings for me.”

Youngjae’s head pounded with new information. With the idea that Jaebeom knew how Youngjae felt about him. And his mind raced with a million questions but none of them were relevant because it wasn’t his time to get answers. It was Jaebeom’s. “Jaebeom, please,” Youngjae stopped him, shaking his head and the thoughts that kept circulating. “This has nothing to do with me and my feelings.” Because it never did. He was never at the center of this narrative no matter how much he wanted to be.

Jaebeom swallowed. He looked at his watch. “I’ve got to go,” he said and paced back towards the door. His gate wide and heavy.

“Jaebeom,” Youngjae rushed over to him, putting a hand to his chest.

Jaebeom stilled, looking down at Youngjae’s hand before tracing up to his face. His eyes miles away.

“I’m sorry,” Youngjae murmured. “You didn’t deserve this.”

Jaebeom’s eyes stayed stale, growing glossy. “Maybe I did,” he shrugged.

And Youngjae opened his mouth, desperate to get out the words. To tell him he was wrong. That he was perfect and Jinyoung was an idiot for not seeing it.

But before he could find it in him, Jaebeom was slipping past him and out the door.

\---

It was the next day. Youngjae woke up to the text from Jinyoung. Telling him he was going to California with Mark. And he had read it approximately three times before chucking his phone against the bed, putting a pillow over his face, and screaming out, “You’re such an idiot, Jinyoung!”

He stewed in his bitterness for three days. He couldn’t believe that Jinyoung would be so selfish, so foolish. To fall for this boy who was obviously manipulating him. Who wanted him because he was Jinyoung. Cause he was handsome and smart and never seemed to doubt himself. Even when he oscillated between ruthless coldness and fervent warmth depending on his mood. This boy who didn’t share a decade of memories with Jinyoung yet wanted to share the same space as Jaebeom. Jaebeom who was perfect. The light through the trees that shined only for Jinyoung. Never for Youngjae.

On the third day, he got a call from Jaebum while working on homework. The call itself had Youngjae stopping everything. Had him standing up and immediately starting to pace around his living room. Had him clearing his throat before pushing answer. Because he couldn’t remember a time when Jaebum had ever called him.

“Hey,” Jaebeom said. His voice was hard to place. Somewhat sunny but trying to cover an uneasiness that was contagious.

“Hey,” Youngjae replied, feeling the tightening of his chest and throat around the words. “What’s up?”

“I just,” Jaebeom hesitated. The sounds of a busy street layered behind his voice. “I just wanted to know how he’s doing.”

“What?” Youngjae felt his heartbeat pick up.

Jaebeom sighed. “I know it’s stupid. But is he sleeping okay? Eating? I just needed to know.”

Youngjae caught on a little too late at what Jaebeom was hinting at. And he felt that familiar dread pooling around his chest. The same sinking feeling that he had when he told Jaebeom about Mark. “Hyung,” he sighed. “He’s not here.”

Jaebeom seemed to skip a beat. Seemed to be trying to understand. “What do you mean?” his voice came out rushed, panicked.

Youngjae rubbed his face, “He didn’t tell you?” Cursing Jinyoung for what seemed to be the millionth time.

Jaebeom was quiet for a moment and Youngjae could almost hear the thoughts circling his head in harmony with the cars behind him. “I’m in the neighborhood,” he rushed. “I’ll be over in a second.”

Jaebeom hung up before Youngjae could protest. “Fuck,” he said under his breath as he rushed to throw on something other than pajamas. He cleaned up the clothes off the couch and tried to throw all the dirty mugs and utensils in the sink with a crash. He heard the knock at the door. He rushed to answer it.

When he opened the door, Jaebeom was standing there in his jeans and his sweater and his overcoat. Polished and put together. His bangs falling in a straight line, almost brushing his eyelashes. But one look in his eyes told Youngjae everything. That he was lost and shocked and barely holding on. Jaebeom rushed into the apartment without invitation, turning towards Youngjae in the doorway. “What’s going on?” he swallowed.

“Hyung,” Youngjae sighed. He shut the door, leaning himself against the wall of the hallway. Wondering why he’d been tasked as the messenger yet again. Hating that he had to be the one to watch the continuous falling of Jaebeom’s face. Not Jinyoung. Not the one who should have to be facing these consequences. Having to watch the impact his selfish actions had on those around him.

“Youngjae,” Jaebeom seethed. His voice tired and hostile. “Come on. Just tell me. Please. Where is he?”

“He’s in California,” Youngjae spoke softly, readjusting himself and crossing his arms over his chest.

Jaebeom stopped. His eyes losing their malice. Losing anything. Turning hard. “What?” he hissed. “Why would he go to California?”

Youngjae held his breath. “He went with… someone.”

Jaebeom was frozen. Realizing. A small twitch at the corner of his mouth. Involuntary.

“I’m sorry, hyung,” Youngjae lips buttoned together. Wishing there was something he could say or do to wipe that look off Jaebeom’s face.

Jaebeom blinked. He kept blinking. His face tightening up but only on one side. Like he was trying to play it off. Like there was something in his eye. “Youngjae,” said, his eyes growing glossy despite his attempt to hide it. “Why is he doing this?”

And Youngjae knew that he didn’t mean ‘this’ as in going to California but ‘this’ as in everything. Thinking of no one but himself. Sabotaging the relationship without a second thought. Youngjae shook his head, “I don’t know, hyung.”

Jaebeom rubbed his face with a hand, trying to cover the gloss in his eyes. He took a step forward but something in him gave out and his legs buckled.

Youngjae was quick enough, putting his arms out and catching him as he crumpled. But Jaebeom was heavy and dense and Youngjae couldn’t lift him back up from the angle he was at. So instead he slid down the wall, hitting the floor with a thump. Jaebeom’s broad chest seemed to smother him. Their collarbones knocking together. The weight of Jaebeom’s ribs against his thighs. Their legs kicked out uselessly. He wrapped his arms around Jaebeom’s middle and pulled him in, feeling the way his chest quaked.

“Why,” Jaebeom murmured through a wet throat and kept repeating. “Why? Why? Why? Why?” Each time sounding more desperate and wrecked.

Youngjae gripped him tighter. He rested his chin onto the sharp jut of his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, in an effort to soothe him. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Youngjae had never seen Jaebeom like this. And he didn’t know how to deal with Jaebeom when he was being so vulnerable and weak and unlike himself. He knew he was seeing a side to him that no one else saw. Not even Jinyoung. Especially not Jinyoung.

“What did I do?” Jaebeom’s tears were seeping through Youngjae’s shirt. “Where did I go wrong?”

“You didn’t,” Youngjae rubbed a hand against his back. His voice low and soft. “You never could. This isn’t about you.”

They stayed like this for a while. Until Jaebeom’s tears wouldn’t fall anymore. Until he stilled. Too still. Like he was shutting down.

At some point, Jaebeom shifted himself, pulling his weight away.

And Youngjae tried not to miss it.

Jaebeom sat down next to him, back against the wall and knees drawn up. And their eyes didn’t meet when he spoke.

“Where is he?” he said. His voice suddenly shifted back to strong and collected. But the shift was too quick to be genuine. “I need to go get him.”

“What?” Youngjae looked over, only getting Jaebeom’s profile.

His eyes were cold and hard and sure. “I need to bring him home. I can’t let him think I don’t care.”

“Hyung. Listen to yourself,” Youngjae scoffed, feeling heat patch against his skin. “He cheated on you. He left. He’s the one who has shown that he doesn’t care.”

“I must have fucked up,” Jaebeom closed his eyes and shook his head. Like he couldn’t hear anything Youngjae was saying.

Youngjae swallowed. “You didn’t,” he whispered. He wanted to move closer to him. To reach out and pull his chin close and look in his eyes and know that he was listening. But he couldn’t. Because this wasn’t about him. But the words came out nonetheless, “You were perfect.”

“Youngjae. Stop,” Jaebeom’s tone suddenly grew fierce. He stood up in a flash, starting to pace. “You don’t get it. You haven’t been in a relationship like this.”

And the words hurt Youngjae. To think that he was being discredited for lack of experience. He got up, feeling Jaebeom’s insolence fueling his own. “Maybe I haven’t,” he said, throwing his arms. “But I know Jinyoung. I know you’re the farthest thing from his mind right now. He’s off with someone else right now. He’s going to sleep next to someone else.”

Jaebeom stepped into his space, bringing their faces too close. “Stop!” Jaebeom yelled. His eyes vibrant. His breaths seething. His hands fisted. “You’re going to tell me where he is. And I’m going to get him. You aren’t part of my relationship. You don’t get a say in how I fix it.”

Youngjae’s chest felt tight and hard. He closed his mouth tightly. Not backing down from Jaebeom’s gaze but not challenging him any further. “Fine,” he murmured. He pushed past him, letting their shoulders knock harshly. He got his phone from the coffee table, flicking through his contacts and finding Mark.

“I’m forwarding you their last check in,” he said, sending the message and throwing his phone down again. He looked back up to him.

Jaebeom’s jaw was still tight. But his eyes. His eyes looked softer. Almost guilty. “Thank you.”

“Whatever, Jaebeom,” Youngjae shook his head. “Jinyoung says jump and you say how high.”

Jaebeom didn’t react, taking it in. “He’s my constant. He’s home.”

“I know,” Youngjae sighed. Tired of being reminded. “I know.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. Not looking up but instead turning back towards the door and walking back out the way he came.


	2. The Phases

Some time passed. And Youngjae never got the bitter taste out of his mouth that Jinyoung’s actions had left but with each passing day, he missed his best friend more and more until that feeling overtook the bitterness.

Youngjae did hear from Jaebeom. He had called him. And Youngjae had assumed it would be awkward considering how their last interaction had ended. Youngjae’s lack of support towards Jaebeom overcorrecting as a means to rectify the relationship. Jaebeom’s hostility towards him about it. But it was worse than he could have imagined. Like there was something they weren’t addressing. Jaebeom didn’t ask how he had been. He didn’t bring up Jinyoung’s affair. He seemed to be desperately clinging to the narrative that everything was fine and normal though it was obvious to Youngjae that it was all a front.

Jaebeom hurried to the matter at hand. He wanted to plan a surprise party for Jinyoung for after he passed his defense. And maybe a few months ago, before he knew what he knew, Youngjae would have loved the idea and been eager to help. But he could hear the anxiety in Jaebeom voice. How he was balancing his emotions on the tip of a blade. Near crash and burn. And it made him want to have nothing to do with it.

But because he didn’t know what else to do, he agreed to help Jaebeom. He organized everything Jaebeom needed from Seoul. Going over to their apartment to set up. Stopping to look at the photos on the walls, their vacations and graduations. Their arms tight around each other’s waists. Jaebeom’s eyes always on Jinyoung.

The party came and went with little fanfare. Jinyoung seemed too dazed to even process it and Jaebeom seemed too worried to enjoy it and Youngjae wondered if anyone else was feeling the tension between them. Jaebeom and Jinyoung went back down south in the following days. As if they were going back into hiding.

And then, nothing.

A month went by. No communication from either of them. So Youngjae went to his classes. He worked a few part-time gigs. He studied hard and wrote his essays and tried to find solace in anything else. Because after a month, Youngjae had almost started to believe that he had been forsaken entirely. That Jinyoung and Jaebeom were going to get through whatever they were going through by hiding out and keeping each other miserable with their memories of the past. He had started to think that it might be time to find other friends.

Youngjae was watching TV at home, trying to relax after a long day at school with a beer. His phone started to ring on the coffee table. And he thought maybe it was one of his siblings checking in. Or maybe another potential gig that needed him to sing for a wedding ceremony or corporate function. He looked to the caller ID.

_Im Jaebeom_

His heartbeat picked up. And he thought immediately that Jinyoung ran off again. That something happened. Because if time had proven anything, it was that Jaebeom’s calls never brought good news.

“Hello?” Youngjae answered.

“Hey,” Jaebeom’s voice came through loud and clear.

“What’s wrong, hyung?” Youngjae knitted his brows together, sighing hard. “What happened now?”

Jaebeom didn’t speak for a moment. And when his voice finally came out, it was light and soft. “Oh,” he said, as if surprised. “Nothing. I just,” he hesitated. “I just wanted to know how you are.”

Youngjae was quiet. Unsure of what was going on. Surely, there had to be more to it. Because Jaebeom had never just called him out of the blue to check in on him. Especially not after a month of radio silence. Nevertheless, he played along. “I’m fine.”

“Did you have a good day?” Jaebeom asked. His tone bright. Friendly. Harmless.

Youngjae licked his lips. “I guess.”

“What did you do?”

“Uh,” Youngjae tried to think back but the flood of other thoughts made it difficult to sort through. What was going on? “I had a test, but I did well. And then I had a private lesson. It didn’t go as well.”

“Why not?” Jaebeom’s voice was tinged with concern.

Youngjae was on the edge of his seat. He felt nervous. Unsettled. Because the conversation was so mundane despite the abnormal circumstances that Jaebeom was refusing to acknowledge. “I don’t know,” he sighed. “I just have this one piece that I’ve been tripping up on. It’s driving me crazy.”

Jaebeom hummed into the phone. “I’m sure you’ll get it. You always get it.”

“Yeah,” Youngjae said. His head eighty miles away. And there was just enough of a lull in the conversation where he knew it was his turn to ask a question. And certainly, he had to be careful about how he did this. Because something had to be wrong. And Jaebeom had to be beating around the bush. He tried to think of how he could skirt around it far enough to find out. “Hey,” he started. “Are you still down south?”

Jaebeom paused for a moment too long. “No,” he said. And there was a sigh in his voice that sounded like a bigger confession than it was. “I’m back in Seoul.”

“Oh,” Youngjae nodded but he was more baffled than ever. “Nice.” Unsure of what to make of that. Because it didn’t definitively answer any questions.

“Yeah,” Jaebeom said, softly. He drew in a sharp breath. “So, you are doing summer classes?”

“Yeah. Just a few though. And I’m doing some gigs on the side. Just like weddings and stuff. You know,” Youngjae rambled.

“That’s wonderful,” Jaebeom said, though his tone seemed stale. Forced.

“It’s convenient,” Youngjae swallowed. Trying pick any topic. Anything to maintain the conversation. Keep the awkwardness at bay. “Are you back to work?”

“Yeah. I went back this week.”

“Is it going well?”

“Well enough,” Jaebeom sighed. “Work is work.”

Youngjae huffed. “I don’t know why you do that job.”

“What do you mean?”

Youngjae shrugged. “You don’t seem to enjoy it much.”

“It’s a job,” Jaebeom said. “Who said I have to enjoy it?”

“You spend a third of your life there,” Youngjae offered. “You may as well do something you love, right?”

Jaebeom hummed. Seeming suddenly pensive. “Maybe.”

Youngjae felt that desperate need to fill the quiet. Like the silence were cracks between them and he was trying not to shatter the illusion. “What would you be doing if you weren’t in accounting?”

Jaebeom’s voice came out tampered. Like maybe he had his finger in his mouth, biting a loose nail. “I don’t know.”

“Well, what are you passionate about?” Youngjae pressed.

Jaebeom was quiet for a moment. “I don’t know.”

“Come on,” Youngjae huffed. “There must be something. What makes you happy?”

Jaebeom’s silence was only held out longer. “I don’t know,” he sighed, sounding defeated.

Youngjae couldn’t understand how such a simple question seemed to take so much out of him. “Seriously?” he said. The tone coming out slightly irritated.

“Hey,” Jaebeom hissed suddenly. “I should probably get some rest.”

Youngjae looked over to the clock, seeing it was barely 8pm. He felt his shoulders fall. The illusion shattering before his eyes. Whatever this call was about, Youngjae had ruined it. He had failed to get whatever answers he needed. And he failed to maintain Jaebeom’s attention for as long as he was offering it.

Youngjae swallowed. “Okay, hyung,” he nodded.

Another silence. “Could I…” Jaebeom hesitated. “Is it okay if I call you tomorrow?”

Youngjae hadn’t expected it. And the question made him choke out a sound of surprise. Somewhere between a laugh and a gasp. “Why… why would you call me?”

“I don’t know,” Jaebeom seemed to shrug through the phone. “I just like hearing your voice.” He paused. “It’s comforting.”

Youngjae’s head spun. He was deeply trying to understand but couldn’t. His head felt loud with white noise. “Sure,” he said, voice small. “You can call me.”

“Okay,” Jaebeom’s tone lightened. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Have a good night.”

The line went dead and so did any hope of Youngjae sleeping that night.

\---

Jaebeom hadn’t lied. After a busy day, Youngjae came home and waited by the phone. Unable to eat. Unable to shower. Fearing he might miss it. But Jaebeom called.

“Where are you?” Youngjae had asked, because Jaebeom’s voice felt close and a little mumbled in a way it hadn’t the day before.

“I’m just at home. I’m lying in bed,” Jaebeom said, the sound of him shifting came through.

Youngjae tried not to picture it too vividly. He bit his lip. “How was your day?”

“It was a day,” Jaebeom said simply. “Nothing good. Nothing bad.”

“Give me a low and then a high.”

“What does that mean?”

“Your worst thing that happened and the best thing that happened.”

“Mmm.” Jaebeom hummed. “My low? Well, my computer keeps crashing at work. It happens at least once a day. I tried to get IT on it but every time they come it acts like nothing is wrong.”

“It’s mocking you,” Youngjae hummed.

Jaebeom laughed aloud. And the sound immediately elicited a wide smile from Youngjae. “That’s what it feels like,” he chuckled.

“What about your high?” Youngjae asked.

Jaebeom paused for a moment. “Probably talking to you.”

Youngjae felt a warmth sneaking up his back, infecting his chest and his face. He felt entirely too much. But there was an edge of immorality permeating it. One in which he couldn’t help but think of his friend. Where was Jinyoung? Was he in Jaebeom’s living room? Was he in Jinhae? Was he in California? Youngjae was too afraid to ask.

“What about you?” Jaebeom shifted. “A low and a high.”

Youngjae stuffed down all those other questions. “School was my low,” Youngjae sighed.

“Why?” Jaebeom seemed to be covering his mouth slightly. Maybe it was the way he was laying on his bed.

Again, Youngjae tried to keep from imagining Jaebeom tangled in his own sheets with the phone pressed to his ear. A pillow held under his chin, obstructing his words. “I don’t know. It was just one of those days.”

“Tell me about it,” Jaebeom said. Sounding earnest. Open.

“I got shit from a conductor today. She seemed to really be keen on calling me out in front of everyone. Said I wasn’t working hard enough. And I couldn’t help but think that maybe she was right. Afterwards, I even thought that maybe I should drop the class since I’m holding back the whole ensemble.”

“But surely you didn’t think that?”

“Yeah,” he said. His voice quiet. “I did.”

“Youngjae,” Jaebum sighed. “You’re better than that. You could conquer the world. You’re so much smarter. So much more well-spoken than you give yourself credit for.”

Youngjae scoffed, lightly. “You don’t know me well enough to say that.”

“Of course, I do,” Jaebeom huffed a laugh. “You’re one of my best friends.”

“I’m your fiancé’s best friend,” Youngjae corrected.

The line went silent. Not even the sound of Jaebeom stirring in his sheets.

Youngjae licked his lips. Taking a deep breath. Knowing there was no going back from this question. “How has Jinyoung been? I haven’t spoken to him since he was in Seoul.”

Jaebeom was quiet. In that way that he often was when his thoughts were loud. Youngjae could almost picture his blank face. Processing. “I’m not sure,” Jaebeom finally spoke, voice full of hesitation. “I haven’t spoken to him.”

“Is he in Seoul?” Youngjae asked. Feeling like he was mining for answers in an unstable cavern of Jaebeom’s mind. Scared that any sudden movement would have it all crashing down. But there was so much that Jaebeom was leaving unsaid. So much that Youngjae needed to understand.

“No,” Jaebeom said. “He’s in Jinhae.”

“Okay?” Youngjae said, wondering if he would continue.

“We,” Jaebeom said, a little shaky. He let out a breath. “He broke up with me.”

Youngjae felt himself freezing. He wasn’t sure what was more surprising. The fact that him and Jinyoung had broken up or the fact that Jaebeom was the one telling him. He felt like the answer unlocked one door that diverted into a chasm of endless, winding paths. Each one just as confusing as the last. “Like for good?”

“Yeah,” Jaebeom said. “For good.”

Youngjae was slightly speechless. Trying to find the right words. “Are you okay?”

Jaebeom almost laughed. “I’m okay. It’s a little hard. But I’m gonna be okay.”

Youngjae felt his chest sink a little from Jaebeom’s tone. It wasn’t quiet or sad but a little broken. Like he was trying to find the good in what seemed like endless bad.

“Please,” Youngjae felt himself saying with his whole chest. “If there is anything I can do-”

“You’re already doing it, Youngjae,” Jaebeom interrupted. An audible warmth in his voice.

And Youngjae wasn’t quite sure what he meant. But he had done enough prying for one night. So, he tried to steer the conversation as far from Jinyoung as possible. “Tell me how your mom taught you to cook,” he said, softly.

“Well,” Jaebeom said, a smile infecting his tone. “It’s actually a funny story.”

\---

It happened like this. Jaebeom started calling every day. Sending texts. Pictures even. Mundane things. The blue screen of his computer as it crashed while Youngjae was sitting in class.

_IJB: Why does the universe hate me?_

_CYJ: Cause your company makes you use Windows._

_IJB: It’s fine. I love just sitting here waiting for technology to take pity on me._

_CYJ: Show me your best bored face._

Jaebeom sending back a pic of his face leaned onto his hand. His elbow resting atop his desk. His eyes almost rolling back and the corners of his mouth turning down.

And even though it was silly, Youngjae felt the warmth of it.

_CYJ: Handsome even when you’re doing your corporate slave thing._

_IJB: Not everyone has your looks to make it in the arts._

Youngjae bit his lip hard to temper himself. Unable to focus on the rest of the lecture.

And it wasn’t just flirty selfies either. Sometimes it was the view from his office window as the sun was setting across the river.

_IJB: What’s the best sunset you ever saw?_

_CYJ: The first night I lived in Seoul. I watched it from the roof of my apartment building._

_IJB: Why was it the best?_

_CYJ: I’d been coming to Seoul on the weekends for years just to do lessons and audition for schools. And I hated leaving. I would ride the bus home on Sunday and watch the sky fade to night and I always lamented it._

_CYJ: So when I first moved, I nearly cried at that first sunset. Cause I knew it didn’t mean an end that time, but a beginning._

_IJB: I never knew that about you._

_CYJ: You never asked._

_CYJ: What about you? Best sunset._

_IJB: I think I’m still looking for mine._

_CYJ: Let me know when you find it._

And sometimes it wasn’t texts at all. Sometimes Jaebeom would send him songs or playlists. Collections of smooth, bassy songs. Vintage feels. Soulful stuff that made you nod your head along to the beat.

_IJB: I can’t stop listening to this._

And Youngjae would listen to them on his commute to school or while he studied and he swore, whenever and wherever he listened, he could feel a little closer to Jaebeom. As if the smooth voices and their affectionate words were straight from Jaebeom’s mouth. Singing about love and desire in low, soothing voices that danced along melodies the way Jaebeom danced around any hope of being straightforward.

And no matter how much it made his brain and his heart ache to be replaying and reading every conversation with Jaebeom in hope of figuring out what he wanted, he couldn’t stop listening either.

\---

Youngjae was trying to clean up the apartment. It was the day that Jinyoung was coming from down south to move back in. He was eager to see his best friend. If not a bit cautious. He hadn’t had the chance to talk to him since the breakup. And that alone left a lot unsaid. He had no idea where Jinyoung’s head was at most times anyway, so this was nothing new. Words being his best friend's strength and his weakness. Unable to read between his own lines, his own emotions most of the time.

Any additional caution was due in total to Jaebeom. There was no doubt now that the boy had been flirting with him. Letting his voice and his words drip saccharine into his ears and eyes. Youngjae was feeling like it was all some sick dream that he’d wake from at any moment. But as much as he loved the sudden attention, he valued Jinyoung. Therefore, he didn’t want to do anything to hurt their friendship.

He was folding laundry when his phone went off, causing him to jump from his contemplations. And though he hadn’t yet looked at the screen, he knew exactly who it would be. He felt himself smiling unconsciously as he checked.

_IJB: Hey._

_IJB: Do you mind if I drop by tomorrow?_

Youngjae felt his heart start to race. This was different. Youngjae hadn’t seen him since Jinyoung’s surprise party. He thought back to it now. The way Jaebeom seemed unsettled, constantly shifting his weight and biting his lips. The way his eyes were trained on Jinyoung’s face, following him no matter where he went. Trying to read him at all times. The way Jinyoung had nervously pulled Jaebeom into the bedroom to talk. About what, Youngjae would never know.

But Youngjae stuffed those feelings down. Typing back with haste.

_CYJ: I don’t mind._

_IJB: Good. I wanted to drop off Jinyoung’s things._

Youngjae felt the rise of his heart suddenly plummeting towards his stomach. Flooding him with disappointment. Of course. Of course, it was just about Jinyoung. Because it was always about Jinyoung. He sighed.

_CYJ: Oh. Okay._

_IJB: He’ll be there, right?_

_CYJ: He should be. He’s getting in today._

_IJB: Okay._

Youngjae bit his lip. He tinkered between thoughts. Desperate and impatient to get inside the boy’s head. To know exactly what he was thinking. Because Jaebeom was usually a bit more closed off but communicating with him over text like this made it unbearable at times like these where he was being ambiguous. Where he was nothing like that sweet boy with the sweet words that made him blush. He felt a heat come over him. A need to push Jaebeom’s buttons to elicit some sort of response. To get that validation he so craved.

_CYJ: Are you nervous about seeing him?_

_IJB: No. I’ll be okay._

More tinkering. More typing.

_CYJ: Are you nervous about seeing me?_

_IJB: Should I be?_

_CYJ: I don’t know._

Youngjae felt the stirring of his chest. He bit his nail absentmindedly.

_CYJ: Is it stupid for me to be nervous?_

_IJB: You’ve been my friend for four years. Why would you be nervous?_

Youngjae scoffed at his phone. He hated how loaded the word friend felt.

_CYJ: You’ve KNOWN me four years. I’m not sure you’d consider me a friend._

_IJB: I always considered us friends._

Youngjae bit his lip. Typing out the words. Finger hovering before the rush to hit send overpowered the fear.

_CYJ: Even when you knew I liked you?_

The ellipses seemed to hover too long, making Youngjae’s heart rise higher and higher in his throat.

_IJB: Even when I knew._

Youngjae threw back his head. Unable to contain a shout.

_CYJ: I’ll see you tomorrow, hyung._

He hit send before throwing his phone down with another yell.

\---

The next day, he heard Jaebeom come to the door. Jinyoung popped his head into his room. “Hey, can you help Jaebeom and I bring in some boxes?”

Youngjae nodded, feeling the race of his chest. He went down to the car and saw Jaebeom bent inside, getting something. He rose slowly out, shoulders unfolding to their full proportion. Youngjae stopped where he stood. Jaebeom’s hair was a little too long, threatening to fall in his eyes. A little damp at the temples where the sweat was collecting from the brutally hot summer day. His t-shirt was too big, falling low on his hips and only highlighting his broadness. His eyes were squinted in the summer sun, crescents that sat atop mountainous cheekbones. Magnetized, his eyes met Youngjae’s from their short distance and his mouth pulled up in a small smirk. And it was the same feeling Youngjae always got when Jaebeom looked at him. And it was almost embarrassing that it had been so many years and Youngjae still couldn’t stifle the gasp under his breath that was pulled from his core. He swallowed it down. Averted his eyes. Grabbed a box and swiftly turned away, taking it back up to the apartment. And he repeated this two more times. Passing Jaebeom in the hall as they filtered back and forth. Flicking his eyes over to him for just a moment and watching as Jaebeom did the same, a silly grin growing across his face each time he looked away. The overly conscious way their shoulders almost seemed to brush.

After trip number three, Youngjae came down again. Jaebeom was waiting for him. He was leaned against his car. Youngjae had forgotten how deathly handsome he was.

Youngjae walked up. Feeling the sway of his shy hips. And the closer he was pulled toward Jaebeom, the faster his heart raced. The wider his smile got.

Jaebeom looked back at him. Holding his eyes for a moment before speaking. “How are you?”

“Hungover,” Youngjae huffed with a grin. “Jinyoung and I didn’t get back till dawn.”

“Where’d you go?” Jaebeom’s eyes sparkled in the bright, white light of midday.

“You know the routine. BBQ, bar, noraebang, the 24-hour café until the trains start running again,” Youngjae counted it off on his fingers. “Just like old times.”

“Mmm,” Jaebeom hummed. “I remember. Your professors would be so mad when you’d show up all frog throated for class the next day.”

“Hey, my jazz professor loved it,” he shrugged. “Said the huskiness made me sound more authentic.”

Jaebeom laughed. “More something, that’s for sure.”

They weren’t talking about anything. Not like they had been. This conversation was small talk compared to their texts and their phone calls. But the look on Jaebeom’s face, bright and secretive, made Youngjae feel impatient. Impatient to be cutting through the formalities and get to what he wanted. Because all he wanted to do was lean him up against the car and kiss him and feel at his sweat dappled hair until they stop traffic. But he knew he couldn’t.

“I missed seeing you,” Youngjae said softly.

Jaebeom smiled, looking down to his feet. Blush crept over his cheeks. “I’ve sent you pictures of me.”

Youngjae scoffed, folding his arms over his chest. “Not the same and you know it.”

The stifled laughter between them faded into a pregnant silence.

Youngjae blinked, looking up through his lashes. Working this tongue against the side of his mouth before speaking. “Are you going to call me tonight?”

Jaebeom smirked. He nodded.

Youngjae felt his heart trying to break free of his chest. The feeling Jaebeom could elicit from him with a turn of his lips. Making him feel timeless. Like he was still that undergraduate who couldn’t take his eyes off him as soon as he saw him. He scoffed. “You’re really frustrating, you know that?” he said through a smile.

Jaebeom’s smirk only turned up more until he was letting all his teeth show. “Why?”

Youngjae hated him. But he loved him too. “You know why,” he crossed his arms. “But you better call me tonight.”

Jaebeom nodded, eyes fixated on his features with laser focus. “I will.”

“Is that the last box?” Jinyoung called from behind them, pointing to one on the sidewalk.

“I can take it, hyung,” Youngjae squatted down to grab it, taking it back inside.

He stood just past the door for a minute, watching Jinyoung and Jaebeom talk. He could only see Jaebeom’s face. No longer that shy smirk but deepened with other emotions. He figured it would be hard to face Jinyoung like this no matter the circumstances. And the small seed of a thought ran up his spine. The thought that maybe Jaebeom wasn’t ready. Maybe Jinyoung was still taking up too much of his heart. And Youngjae tried to shake that thought away, knowing that it wasn’t productive for him to think that way. But even so, the thought was still there. Youngjae took a final look at them, at the way they communicated with just their eyes, feeling a little sick, before heading back upstairs.

Jaebeom called him later. Just like he said he would. And Youngjae laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

“I swear I’m gonna hang up this phone,” he said strongly.

“What?” Jaebeom laughed. “You can just admit it. Mint choco ice cream is good.”

“It tastes like toothpaste,” Youngjae whined. “Lord, help this man and his questionable taste.”

“Whatever,” Jaebeom scoffed.

The silence hung momentarily. Youngjae could almost hear Jaebeom thinking through the phone.

“You looked cute today,” Jaebeom said suddenly. A smile hidden in his voice.

“Really?” Youngjae pushed himself up off the bed, feeling nervous all of a sudden.

“Really,” he said firmly. “You always look cute.”

Youngjae scoffed. “Eh. Don’t say that if you don’t mean it,” he shook his head.

“I do,” he said simply. “I remember when I’d come over to your apartment when Jinyoung lived there and you’d be watching your dramas. Hood drawn up around your face. Feet on the coffee table. And your smile. I remember thinking that whoever gets to wake up to that smile, they won’t know how lucky they are.”

Youngjae’s smile fell. “Jaebeom,” he breathed. His chest blooming with an ache he couldn’t contain.

“Sorry,” he laughed. “Maybe that was too much.”

“Mmm,” Youngjae hummed. “Don’t say things like that if you can’t follow through on them.”

Jaebeom was quiet for a moment. “What if I can’t?”

Youngjae paused. “What do you mean?”

Jaebeom drew in a breath. “Hey,” he said. “I should let you go. I got to get some sleep.”

Youngjae heard the sudden hesitancy in his voice but couldn’t understand how it got there. “Okay,” he said. “Have a good night, hyung.”

“You too, Youngjae,” he said, softly. Leaving only the click of the phone in Youngjae’s ears.

\---

It was mid-day. Youngjae was laying on the couch, his composition book balanced over his stomach. His foot up on the back of the couch. He was laughing.

“Where are you?” he questioned. “Why is your voice so low?”

“I’m in the bathroom,” Jaebeom whispered but despite it, Youngjae could hear the echo of his voice on the tile.

“And why are you calling me in the work bathroom?” Youngjae imagined the sight of him in some stall, dress shirt with the tie pulled loose on his neck. The phone pressed to his ear. The smile across his face.

“I’m low on motivation,” he said. “Needed a pick me up.”

Youngjae felt warm. He scoffed, “Why is it so hard to stay motivated?”

Jaebeom sighed. “It’s my job. I mean, are you always motivated to do your schoolwork?”

“Always,” Youngjae didn’t skip a beat. “Music is what I’m passionate about. I’m lucky to be able to do it every day. Motivation isn’t hard for me to find.”

“Mmm,” Jaebeom’s hum was low in his ear. “Wanna share some?”

Youngjae felt the smile pulling tight across his face. The flirtatious lilt of Jaebeom’s voice awakening something in him. “It will cost you.”

“Cost me what?” Jaebeom questioned.

“Maybe you’ll have to do my taxes next year,” Youngjae suggested.

“That’s not till next spring though,” Jaebeom laughed.

“Fair,” Youngjae agreed. “Maybe we can set up some collateral in the meantime.”

“Fine,” Jaebeom mock scoffed. “What do you want?”

Youngjae felt himself thrum with nerves. He didn’t have to consider the answer. He just had to consider whether it was worth saying. But something in him forced it out before he could talk himself out of it.

“I’d like to see you.”

The line went silent for a moment. Youngjae could hear the way Jaebeom held the breath in his chest. “We’re both very busy,” Jaebeom said, his voice tight.

“Not that busy,” Youngjae huffed a laugh. “I mean you found time to bring Jinyoung’s things.”

The silence was deafening. He felt himself counting the seconds. Feeling his heartbeat rise into his throat alongside the regret of ever mentioning anything.

“We’ll see, Youngjae,” Jaebeom replied, softly. “Hey, I should get back to work. I’ll let you go.”

Youngjae got the message. He knew he pushed too far. He swallowed down his embarrassment. “Yeah,” he said. “Have a good day, hyung.”

“You too,” he replied before the call ended.

\---

Jinyoung came to the doorway of Youngjae’s room while he was doing some homework on his bed.

“Hey,” he said. “I can I borrow your travel toothpaste for when I’m gone.”

“I just got you back,” Youngjae whined. “You can’t leave me for three months. London doesn’t need you like I need you.”

“What do you need me for?” Jinyoung crossed his arms, tilting a brow towards him.

Youngjae was quiet. Toying with the pen he was holding. When he looked back up, Jinyoung was sporting a smirk wide across his face.

“Jaebeom?” he asked.

Youngjae sighed, embarrassed. “He’s driving me crazy, hyung.”

“What is he doing?” Jinyoung questioned.

“He’s being hot and cold. Flirts and then pulls away. Acts like he’s too busy to come and see me in person.”

“Well, you know him,” Jinyoung shrugged.

“Not like you do, hyung,” Youngjae shook his head. “I need to know where his head is at.”

Jinyoung came forward, taking a seat on Youngjae’s bed. He thought for a moment. “Jaebeom isn't the best when it comes to communicating how he feels,” Jinyoung said, seriously before letting a smile grow across his face. “But that boy was made to love.”

Youngjae looked back at him. Wide eyed and confused.

“He can’t go long without giving it to someone,” Jinyoung shook his head. “It will wear him down. And he won’t be able to hold off much longer.”

Youngjae sighed. “You make it sound like it’s just a compulsion for him and I’m just some outlet.”

“Trust me,” Jinyoung stopped him. “You’re more than that to him.”

Youngjae paused before huffing. “I don’t want to force him into something if he’s not ready. Or if he doesn’t want it. That’s the last thing I want to do.”

“He wants it,” Jinyoung said, firmly. “And he’ll be ready soon.”

Youngjae looked back at him. Unsure.

“Just trust me,” Jinyoung urged.

“Okay, hyung,” Youngjae nodded. “I trust you.”

“When I come back in three months, I want a good progress report,” Jinyoung got up, walking backwards towards the door. “And I’m gonna take that as a yes on the toothpaste.”

\---

Youngjae took Jinyoung’s advice. He kept messaging Jaebeom. Kept taking his phone calls. And they’d talk for hours until their eyes were heavy with sleep. But Youngjae hadn’t been wrong. Something was happening. Because no matter how long they talked, their conversations would always run cold towards the end.

“You sound off today” Youngjae asked one night, hearing too much exasperation in his voice.

“I’m tired,” Jaebeom sighed into the receiver.

“Why’s that?”

Jaebeom paused before speaking, “Haven’t been sleeping well.”

Youngjae felt the uneasiness in his voice. “Why not?”

Youngjae could hear him shift where he lay.

“Thinking too much.”

Youngjae’s head swam. Trying to place what he meant. Where the layers started and stopped.

He chose to avoid the confrontation, knowing that Jaebeom was prone to running from it anyway. “What do you do when you can’t sleep?”

Jaebeom thought for a moment. “I drive,” he said softly. “And I listen to music.”

Youngjae scrunched his nose, “Really? Why?”

Jaebeom hummed out an ‘I don’t know.’ “That’s where music sounds best. When you’re driving at night. And the road is quiet and dark. You can just zone out. It’s like you can just …stop existing for a little while.”

Youngjae considered that. Jaebeom and how he was this quiet calm light in the night, burning through all of Youngjae’s thoughts. How comfortable Youngjae had gotten in his light. How he knew he didn’t ever want to be without it.

“Well,” Youngjae cleared his throat. Feeling like he might regret these words but knowing that all he could ever do was lob words over Jaebeom’s walls and hope some of them stick. “If you ever need someone to drive around with, I make a good co-pilot.”

“Thanks, Youngjae.”

The neutrality of the tone had Youngjae cursing himself for suggesting anything.

“I think my battery is running low,” Jaebeom sighed.

“Oh,” Youngjae got the connotation. It was that time already. Time for Jaebeom to ice him out. “Right.”

“I’ll let you go,” he sighed. “Have a good night, Youngjae.”

“You, too, hyung,” Youngjae sighed, before hearing the click of the line cutting.

\---

Youngjae was angry yet feeling unjustified. Jaebeom had been slowly warming up to him over the past few weeks but suddenly, every conversation was ending cold and awkward. And Youngjae was lost. Sometimes feeling like he had been pushing too much but then getting angry all over again when he thought about how Jaebeom had been the one to start all of this. And Jaebeom was the one who kept reaching out. So, if anyone was to blame, it was him.

And there was no way to satisfy this push and pull inside of him. So, when some of his friends from his department invited him out to a club at the end of finals week, he felt desperate to get out all the pent-up nervous energy. He was getting ready to meet them when the text came through.

_IJB: Happy Friday, Youngjae. How are you?_

_CYJ: Great considering finals are over!_

_IJB: Congrats! You made it!_

_IJB: You deserve to celebrate._

Youngjae’s chest filled with a hopeful breath as he tried to infer any hidden meanings. Did Jaebeom want to take him out? But after a few minutes, no invitation followed. And Youngjae felt the frustration setting in again, alongside the need to release it.

_CYJ: Oh, I am._

_CYJ: Some friends from my classes are going out tonight._

_IJB: Going to see a movie?_

Youngjae smirked to himself.

_CYJ: No. Going to the club._

_IJB: Oh._

_IJB: Well, sounds like fun._

_IJB: Text me when you get home. Want to make sure you made it back safe._

Youngjae saw the attempt to be attentive and considerate, but he thought back to last night’s phone call. To how Jaebeom had chased him off the phone. And Youngjae was growing tired of the inconsistency. He felt the frustration growing and flooding his head. He pounded out the message.

_CYJ: Don’t count on it._

_IJB: What do you mean?_

_CYJ: I mean, I might not go home. At least, not to my home._

_IJB: Oh._

_IJB: Well, okay. I’ll talk to you later then._

Youngjae sighed. Feeling regret sneak up his neck. He knew he was being immature. Trying to get a rise out of Jaebeom. But he stuffed that feeling down, content on smothering it in anything else. So, he went out. The club was packed with other college students who were looking to let loose after finals week. The music was loud and the drinks were strong.

Youngjae was three drinks deep and nursing a fourth as he swayed on the dancefloor. Habitually keeping his eyes out for handsome strangers when he knew that he wouldn’t do anything about it. Sure, he had taunted Jaebeom, trying to see how he’d react. But at the end of the day, Youngjae wasn’t interested in pursuing any variation of romance until he knew what was going on between him and Jaebeom. But that being said, every time he made eye contact with anyone, he couldn’t help but try and look for the bits of Jaebeom in them. Maybe a similar slant of their eyes or nose that wasn’t straight. And he could only think about how even distant eye contact was a hell of a lot more real-life contact than Jaebeom was willing to give him.

The DJ transitioned into a new song and Youngjae took a minute to gauge why it felt so familiar but then he heard it. It was a little vintage. Melodic bass thumping through sprays of bright guitar. The singer’s crooning leaping low and soft. And then it hit him. It was one of the songs Jaebeom had shared with him.

Youngjae was hazy. His felt his chest grow heavy. His swaying slowing as his mind tumbled through a daydream. A montage of Jaebeom’s smooth voice and crescent eyes. His firm body and soft laugh. Youngjae blinked away the thoughts, feeling his eyes growing glossy in their drunkness.

“You okay?” one of his friends tapped his shoulder. “You look like you’re gonna cry.”

Youngjae batted her away. “I’m fine. I’m fine,” he rushed to say. "I’m just gonna go get some fresh air.” He handed her his drink and snaked his way to the front of the club. Once he stepped outside, he paced over to the nearby alley. He leaned up against the wall, happy to be away from the buzz of the road. But his eyes refused to dry. And he was feeling overwhelmed and stupid and deathly embarrassed that something as dumb as a song that Jaebeom recommended him could be having this effect on him.

His pocket gave a quick and simple buzz. He rushed to take out his phone, thinking it would probably be from his friends inside checking on him. He swiped the phone open and felt his heart sinking.

Jaebeom’s message appeared alongside a gray box. The picture took a moment to load, flashing onto the screen with a dark photo. Jaebeom was in bed, his blanket pulled up under his arms. His shoulders and chest bare and broad and glinting in the low light. His hair messed across his forehead. His stubble looking too real.

_IJB: I hope you’re having a good time tonight :)_

Youngjae had already been hurting but something about the intimacy of the photo had him falling back to that white-hot rage. He clutched the phone in his hands. He pulled himself out of the alley and headed back towards the subway station.

Three subway stops later, he was banging on Jaebeom’s door. Still full of alcohol and rage and not sure what he was hoping to do but sure that he needed to do it. There was no answer to the first set of knocks so Youngjae tried again. “Come on, you idiot,” he gritted through his teeth.

Jaebeom opened the door. Light from the hallway flooded into his dark apartment. His eyes squinted and his chest still bare. Much like the photo he’d sent.

And the sight of him all sleepy and confused made Youngjae want to either fight him or fuck him and there seemed to be no in between. Especially considering how long it had been since he’d seen him face to face, despite them talking almost every day.

He couldn’t help but notice the way his skin glowed. And his shoulders were so broad and his torso so tight. His hips low and the way the skin trailed into his sweatpants made Youngjae’s mouth water.

“Youngjae?” Jaebeom’s voice cracked, he rubbed an eye. “I thought you went out with your friends.”

Youngjae swallowed, thinking that Jaebeom’s voice sounded even sweeter in person, rough with sleep and calling his name. Youngjae couldn’t help but want to hear that every morning for the rest of his life. But despite the sweetness of those reveries, his words still came up too fast and too harsh to catch. “What’s going on?” he asked, throaty and desperate.

Jaebeom’s face drew up, confused. His eyes adjusting to the light and his mouth hanging open. “Huh?”

Youngjae’s hands fisted. “Why are you calling me every day?” his voice shook. “Why are you texting me when you’re at work? Why are you sending me pictures of you in bed as if you want me to be there?”

Jaebeom seemed to be waking quickly now. His eyes widening. His bare feet stepping back, retracting. Like he was scared.

“You can’t do that,” Youngjae shouted, throwing his arms out in strife. “You can’t mess with me like that.”

“What do you mean?” Jaebeom blinked. “Like what?”

Youngjae seethed. “You knew how I felt about you. How I still feel about you. You know and you still do it.”

Jaebeom was quiet. The moment stretching out between them too long. And it felt like it might break before he spoke again. “Youngjae,” he started but the sentence seemed to fall apart in his mouth. He seemed to give up on whatever he was initially planning on saying. “You’ve been drinking.”

Youngjae took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “Either man up and ask me out or leave me alone because I can’t take this anymore,” he shook his head.

Jaebeom was silent for a long time. His eyes downcast, thinking. “I’m sorry,” he finally said, drawing them back up to Youngjae’s face. “I don’t know what to say.” Hiding himself like a new moon and leaving Youngjae disoriented in the dark.

Youngjae rolled his eyes. “Fucking forget it, Jaebeom,” he turned, dragging himself back down the hallway and not looking back.


	3. The Wildfire

Youngjae didn’t hear anything for a few days. He considered reaching out a few times. But truthfully, it wasn’t his job to babysit Jaebeom’s emotions. Jaebeom was in the wrong and Youngjae was confident of that. But it didn’t make it any harder going from daily communication to nothing. He could feel it anytime he had a moment of pause. This instinct to check his phone. To shoot a text about a dream he had or snap a picture of a larger than average bird he saw on his way to class. But he restrained himself each time.

Youngjae wasn’t sure which day it had started raining, but once it started, it seemed to never let up. The newscasters began predicting the wettest August Seoul have seen in a millennium. So much rain that the puddles stretched on for city blocks and convenience store umbrellas sold out by the bucket full.

Youngjae was sitting in his apartment one night. The rush of the rain was loud and filling the space. He had just finished up some homework and was settling down to watch tv when the text came through.

_IJB: Can I pick you up?_

And Youngjae felt his heartbeat pick up, his hands start to shake. It sounded like Jaebeom wanted to talk. But not like they had been talking. No. He wanted to be face-to-face. Which was what Youngjae had been wanting from the start so he couldn’t quite understand why the thought of confronting him was suddenly flooding him with nerves.

_CYJ: Where are we going?_

_IJB: It doesn’t matter._

_IJB: I just want to drive with you._

Youngjae felt his chest soften as he read it. But he shook it away, reminding himself that this was Jaebeom. And that if recent events had proven anything, it was that reading into anything he said would only leave him disappointed.

_CYJ: Okay. Text me when you are here._

He got the text twenty minutes later and when he went down, he saw Jaebeom’s car pulled up outside the apartment building. Youngjae pulled his hood over his head, running out in the rain. And even just in the ten steps he had to take, he could feel the squelch of his sneakers and the streaks of rain soaking through his hoodie. He slid into the passenger seat, shutting the door behind him.

He put his hood back, looking over to Jaebum. But he wasn’t met with his typical kind eyes or warm smile. He was met with nothing but the firm outline of his profile in the light of the streetlamps. Jaebeom started the engine, pulling out towards the main road. No words exchanged.

Youngjae immediately felt himself stiffen. The tone of the car feeling very different from what he expected. But he was essentially trapped. Too nervous to ask what was going on but too curious to stop it.

The highways were clearer than usual this late at night, especially with the heaviness of the rain. The beams of Jaebeom’s headlights catching the motion of all the falling water. The windshield wipers working overtime and creating a rhythmic noise that radiated through Youngjae’s brain. Over it all, Jaebeom was playing music through the speakers. And it was warm and slow and a little sad too which seemed to match, or maybe control, whatever mood Youngjae could feel himself slipping into.

They pulled off the highway and onto a quiet two-lane road. The landscape free of skyscrapers so the night sky opened above them like dark velvet cloth. Growing darker and darker as they continued. An infrequent car passing them in the opposite lane every few minutes.

They must have driven for a half an hour. Nothing between them but the sound of the rain and the soulful songs that Jaebeom’s speakers kept playing out making Youngjae feel so far from his body that he wondered if it was all a dream he’d jolt awake from at any moment.

Eventually, they pulled into an empty parking lot. Youngjae looked through the rain speckled windshield to see a gas station. It was closed for the night. The neon sign flickering and not another car in sight. Jaebeom pulled into a parking spot off to the side, flicking off the car and leaning back in his seat.

They sat there for a moment. Just listening to the music. And Youngjae considered speaking but something about the atmosphere made it feel like even uttering a single word would be taboo.

Jaebum reached over, putting a hand to Youngjae’s thigh. Youngjae had to bite back his gasp, threatening to fill the air with something other than that soulful music and the pitter-patter of rain on the glass. He felt Jaebeom’s hand splaying wide against the fabric of his jeans. There were no depressions of pressure, no ripples of fabric, because he wasn’t gripping. No, because that would have been too easy, too obvious. And everything about Jaebeom was slow and deliberate including this.

In place of something more obvious, Youngjae could feel something else. Something that was so subtle and sweet that it made his chest stir. Against his jeans, he felt the slight stretch Jaebeom’s last two fingers. Moving millimeters closer up his leg. A fraction of a distance. So small that someone more naïve would have deemed it accidental or maybe not even tracked it at all. But when it came to Jaebeom, Youngjae knew that everything was something, even if Jaebeom didn’t know it.

When Youngjae’s eyes looked over to him, he was finally looking back. Though his eyes were hard to read. Glinting in the low, flickering neon light. Not bright but not dull either. Somewhere in between. A hint of hurt somewhere in their darkness. A hint of hope too.

Jaebeom leaned forward over the console and Youngjae did too. His eyes averted down to the other’s lips, seeing up close the slight dotting of stubble. Seeing the dry skin clinging against his lower lip, rough as if he had been gnawing at it. Feeling the small flicker of warm breath against his skin telling him that this was too raw, too real to be a dream.

Jaebeom was the one to finally close the remaining distance and capture Youngjae’s lips with his own. And his lips were firm and warm, countering every curve of Youngjae’s mouth. He could feel the way they filled the empty spaces, but he could barely register anything over the spinning of his head. Thoughts crumpling like a piece of paper that Jaebeom was aiming for the nearest wastebasket.

When Jaebeom pulled away, Youngjae could feel the catch of the dry skin trying to cling to him as if it needed the pressure only he could offer to smooth down. But instead of leaning back into his seat, Jaebeom hovered there like he was waiting for something. For confirmation. For return. His eyes flickering again. Begging a question that didn’t need to be asked.

And Youngjae could have pulled back. Could have stopped whatever was happening. Because he knew, somewhere deep down, that it wasn’t making anything better. But he was weakened. Weakened by four years of Jaebeom being the light through the trees that he only saw in glimmers. And Youngjae had been wandering aimlessly in circles, trying to find another. Another source that could lead him through the darkness. But Jaebeom was always there, albeit obstructed. Luring him closer and closer.

But, now, as he looked into the black of his eyes, Youngjae could see it. He could see that Jaebeom’s light wasn’t a moon hanging low and hopeful in the night sky. No. Instead, Youngjae was stumbling upon a rampant forest fire. Burning soundlessly yet destructively through a mountainside, unbeknownst to anyone. Warm and chaotic and hauntingly silent.

He craned his head, finding Jaebeom’s lips again. He could feel how Jaebeom’s fingers added a little more pressure against his thigh. Youngjae replicated it against his lips, tilting his center of gravity closer to Jaebeom’s and feeling him give against it. But this kiss didn’t have Youngjae crumbling any more. Feeling the heat of Jaebeom’s blaze, seeing it unobstructed for the first time, was sparking something in him. When he pulled back again and looked into Jaebeom’s eyes, he still saw nothing but questions lacing his features. His pupils wide and his mouth left slightly open, his gaze fixed on Youngjae. Diligently reading him. Anticipating their next move.

And he became aware of the fact that Jaebeom was giving him these bits and pieces of control. Offering him miniscule opportunities to order his chaos. But to such a negligible level that Youngjae felt the need to exploit it. So before he could reason, Youngjae was climbing over the console, straddling himself across Jaebeom’s lap. He felt Jaebeom leaning back. Felt the give of his broad chest as he released a breath, surprised.

Youngjae didn’t leave him time to process before he was lacing a hand behind his neck, watching his eyes widen at the brush of skin against his. The heat of Jaebeom’s neck pricking against his palm and burning hotter and hotter with each pulse under his skin. He ran his thumb across his jawline, tracing its edge. His other hand going to lay across Jaebeom’s chest and feeling his heart pounding through his shirt. And he looked into his eyes, seeing every question and a million more hesitations, and felt that beat in his chest pick up. And for what felt like the first time, Youngjae was the cause. He was not only the center of Jaebeom’s narrative, but he was writing it himself. And that felt better than it should have.

The realization had each breathe feeling deep, burning his lungs like the ash coming off Jaebeom. Maddened, he rocked himself forward, meeting Jaebeom’s lips again and feeling how they eagerly parted beneath his. Not just inviting but summoning his tongue in to feel the slide of his mouth. Youngjae’s hand gripping firmly against his neck, drawing him closer and closer until he could feel the cut of his teeth through his lips. Craning his neck in a rhythm, trying to taste every bit of Jaebeom. The hand on his chest fisting into the fabric of his shirt.

In response, Jaebeom’s hands reached out, feeling again for Youngjae’s thighs but this time gripping them hard and pulling them down against him until Youngjae was fully seated in his lap. Jaebeom didn’t let up but kept drawing his hips closer until there was nowhere more for him to go. The pressure immediately awakening something that had Youngjae hissing into Jaebeom’s mouth and grinding down into him.

Jaebeom’s teeth sawed the edge of Youngjae’s lower lip as his hips rolled up in response. A groan, long and deep, fell from his mouth. The fabric of their jeans burning with resistance.

Youngjae pulled away, lacing both his hands around Jaebeom’s neck. Letting his hips roll back before pushing them forward again, moving slowly and deliberately. Feeling the way Jaebeom’s growing hardness met his.

Jaebeom’s hands ran up his thighs, gripping his ass and coaxing his movements. The slow grinding of hips picking up. Their faces close and their quick, panting breaths mingling warm between them.

Youngjae arched into him, unable to stop the quickening pace of his hips. He could feel how hard they both were against each other, straining against the fabric. And it felt like too much and too little all at the same time. Like they both wanted more but it felt too good to stop for even a moment. They rutted against each other senselessly. Like high schoolers who couldn’t control themselves. Feeling the humidity layering itself against their skin.

As their hips kept meeting, the burn was becoming too much. It had Youngjae burying his face into Jaebeom’s neck as he started to whimper. High and embarrassingly desperate and needy. Their chests were flush and Youngjae could feel the vibrations of Jaebeom’s groans, low and breathy as they spilled out his mouth. As if they were meeting Youngjae’s whimpers in harmony. Adding to the music from the speakers.

Youngjae pulled away a bit, looking into his eyes. Trying to read him.

Jaebeom looked back. Brows creased and jaw set forward. His pupils blown and dark in a mix of desperation and pain. God, he was striking. Youngjae couldn’t care what had been and what was going to be. All he could see was Jaebeom looking back at him and all he could feel was how it was Youngjae he was hard for. Youngjae he was moaning for. Youngjae he was gripping with bruising strength.

Youngjae’s cheek twitched. His eyes wanted to roll back, but he kept them focused on Jaebeom. On his elegant features and how they juxtaposed with the sweat at his temples. His scrying mirror eyes and his rough lips. His sharp jaw and his rounded brows. Everything about him a contradiction. Youngjae’s eyes glazed and refocused, glazed and refocused. Edging closer and closer. His mouth opening up, his jaw tightening, emanating a loud whine as he came.

Jaebeom’s eyes didn’t leave his. He watched and watched as Youngjae went over the edge. Like he was trying to memorize the look on his face. And it was only a moment later that he scrunched his nose, hissing harshly through his teeth before letting out a final, loud groan. The way it died in his throat, like an echo, leaving no question about whether or not he finished.

Youngjae sat there a moment as they caught their breaths. His gaze still focused on Jaebeom’s. He watched the way it tumbled from one unreadable emotion to another. And the thought crossed Youngjae’s mind that he might see something he didn’t want to see in there. Something like regret. So, before he could, he slid off and back into the passenger seat, ignoring the sticky throb of his jeans.

They sat there for a moment, their eyes not meeting. The gas station lights still flickering. The air warm and humid and full again with tense, unspoken hesitations.

Then Jaebeom started the car, rolling out of their spot and back on the road.

The pair didn’t say another word. They let the music play, soulful and sad. The euphoria crashing to nothingness. The lights of the highway passing in quick succession, flashing between light and dark. Jaebeom’s hands tight on the wheel.

It felt like no time at all before Jaebeom pulled up to Youngjae’s apartment. Youngjae looked towards Jaebeom. Waiting for him to say something. Anything. To explain himself. But Jaebeom’s eyes were averted downwards, staring at nothing in particular. His chest tight, like he was holding in a breath. Like his stillness may let him disappear.

It became clear to Youngjae that he wasn’t going to get the explanation he desired no matter who long he sat there. So, without a word, he got out, slamming the car door. He walked himself back up to the front of his apartment, the rain dripping into his hair and through his shoes, but he didn’t care anymore. He got to the door, turning his head just enough to watch as Jaebeom pulled away.

And when he woke up the next day, there was no trace of rain in the endless blue sky. And no new notifications either.

\---

Youngjae didn’t hear anything for a few days. And he thought that maybe this is how it ends. Maybe Jaebeom never speaks to him again. And that hurt a lot. Made him feel fairly worthless. Made everything he did feel more difficult. Made his mind unable to concentrate for even a few precious moments on something other than the flavor of Jaebeom’s mouth when they kissed. The feeling of his hands on his thighs. The rock of his hips against him. And the memory was bringing up a whole host of emotions and no relief.

It was a few days later and raining again. Another downpour that had everyone panicked. Businesses closing earlier. Hagwons sending students home. And Youngjae figured he’d hunker down at home for another quiet night. Alone with all the thoughts that threatened to swallow him whole. But the rain had other plans.

_IJB: Can I pick you up?_

Youngjae read the text. The same message as before. But now holding a totally different meaning.

_CYJ: Yeah_

Twenty more minutes and Youngjae was climbing into Jaebeom’s car. Shielding himself from the rain. He closed the door, looking over to Jaebeom and being unsurprised to see the same stoic profile as last time. Same hands tight on the wheel. Same buttoned lips. And that music still playing.

Jaebeom pulled out, taking him down that same highway, pulling off at the same exit, until they were back out front that gas station and Youngjae felt like he had never really left it. Or maybe, he had just left a part of himself here, hoping, foolishly, that it would call him back.

There was an unsteady pause between them before Jaebeom leaned over the console, bringing a hand to rest on Youngjae’s cheek. And his palm was burning hot against Youngjae’s cool skin and he looked back to see the black of Jaebeom’s eyes wide. Hurting. And he was reminded of that wildfire that Jaebeom had, silently burning. A trap of cinder and ash that Youngjae was willingly falling right back into.

There were a million questions lining themselves up in his throat but as soon as Jaebeom leaned closer, pressing his lips against Youngjae’s, they were all shot to hell.

Jaebeom’s kiss was soft enough to tickle at all the nerve endings lining Youngjae’s skin, setting off a rapid-fire chain reaction that went straight to his core. Even in the softness, or maybe because of it, Youngjae felt that ferocity showing through again. The menial but insatiable level of control that Jaebeom was passing off to him. And even though he knew now that it was all a lie, that any control Jaebeom seemed to be giving him was an illusion that solely existed in this car, he still couldn’t let go of how it made him feel.

Youngjae leaned into that kiss, desperate to convey the intensity of his feelings. His hands moving into Jaebeom t-shirt, fisting him closer.

Jaebeom’s hand stayed hot on his cheek but he felt the other one trailing slowly up his thigh. As it traveled, Youngjae felt that chain-reaction spreading through his lap and down his legs. And when Jaebeom’s hand finally reached the space between, pressing down roughly and working him in firm circles through the fabric of his joggers, Youngjae had to pull away to gasp wide into Jaebeom’s mouth.

Jaebeom swallowed his gasp, licking into his mouth and quieting his breathiness. Youngjae’s mind sparking as he remembered that taste he’d been chasing the memory of since the last time he was here.

Jaebeom’s hand worked its way up under the hem of Youngjae’s shirt, moving up his body. It felt over the skin of his chest, the fabric of the shirt bunching against his wrist. Jaebeom pulled away slightly, nimbly hooking his forefinger through the neck and gathering all the excess fabric between his fingers. Youngjae raised his arms just enough for Jaebeom to be able to pull the shirt over his head. When Youngjae’s head popped free, Jaebeom immediately dove back in to kiss him, hand returning to his lap to press into him.

Youngjae’s hands combed through his hair and his hips bucked towards the touch, feeling himself hardening. Jaebeom’s grip tightened into a fist, slowly starting to jerk him over the fabric. Youngjae released a moan into Jaebeom’s mouth. His hands, desperate to feel more of Jaebeom, reached for his sides, trying to pull him closer.

Jaebeom took the hint. He didn’t break the kiss as he crawled over the console. A flurry of legs and hips invading the space. Clumsy and eager. He pulled away as he slotted himself onto the floor of the car, settling between Youngjae’s knees.

Youngjae looked down at him. Eyes wide. His wide shoulders filling the space. And if he hadn’t been so taken by the moment, he may have laughed at how ridiculous it was, but all he could see was Jaebeom’s eyes staring up at him. Twinkling black as his fingers nimbly dipped under the waistband of his joggers and started to jerk him again.

Youngjae stuttered out a breath, biting down on his lip to keep the whines from working their way out. Scared that any reaction might wake them both from whatever delusion they had fallen into.

Both of Jaebeom’s hands hooked into the waistband of his pants, pulling painfully slow until they rested at Youngjae’s knees.

Part of Youngjae felt a little shy, crossing his hands against his bare chest that shown in the neon light while Jaebeom was still fully dressed, but the other part of him didn’t give a damn about anything except the hungry look in Jaebeom’s eyes as he licked his lips and leaned himself so close that Youngjae could feel his warm breath on his thighs. The sensation had Youngjae spreading his legs further, stretching his hips downward in an effort to be closer.

Jaebeom's fingers curled around him again and he didn’t hesitate as he pressed his tongue to the head. Zigzagging it across the surface until it was shining in the light.

Youngjae watched in a daze, unable to compute what he was seeing. The image of Jaebeom lapping at him with a heavy look in his eyes was something he had only kept filed in the back of his mind for late at night when his hand acted as the next best thing. But there he was, sliding into Jaebeom’s mouth and feeling the warmth of it encircle him and while the proper circumstances weren’t there, he couldn’t give two shits as long as Jaebeom didn’t stop.

Jaebeom slid along, reaching his mouth closer and closer with every slow, sweet stroke. He pulled off every few strokes, pumping him quickly with his hand and thumbing over his slit before returning his mouth to work him with those long, drawn out movements.

The variations of speed and pressure had Youngjae gasping, drawing his knuckle into his mouth so he could bite down. The pain blooming through his hand yet barely registering over the pleasure emanating from his core.

Jaebeom continued, relying on his hand less and less like his mouth was craving more. He dipped faster, further until Youngjae was feeling the hot pulse of his throat and scorning whatever god he had to blame for not giving Jaebeom a gag reflex amongst every other perfect thing about him.

As Jaebeom bobbed, Youngjae looked down at him, a movement catching his glazed eyes. Youngjae caught Jaebeom’s jeans unbuttoned, wondering when he had done it but not caring once he saw how he was fisting himself vigorously with his free hand. And the sight of Jaebeom getting off to the taste of Youngjae had him moaning loud.

And as if in response, he felt the rumble of Jaebeom’s throat as he choked out a moan around him. The sensation ignited the haze into a throbbing euphoria, pushing Youngjae closer and closer to his edge. He moved his hands out towards Jaebeom’s neck, feeling the warm, smooth skin under his fingertips.

Jaebeom looked up, his expression raw and brutal as he didn’t pause but kept going. His groans loud and deep and rumbling against Youngjae. And it wasn’t until then that Youngjae’s eyes flicked down and saw the cum dripping over Jaebeom’s fist where he had finished all over himself.

And the sight was the final straw. Youngjae eclipsed. His whole body shuddering violently, bucking into Jaebeom. A chorus of gasps and moans replaced any attempts to breathe as he released into Jaebeom’s mouth, longer and more intense than he ever had before.

Then Jaebeom pulled off of him. Nostrils flared as his chest rose and fell just as fast as Youngjae’s. His Adam’s apple bobbing deep as he swallowed, keeping his eyes locked on Youngjae. Reading him.

And Youngjae wanted to say something. He really did. And the way Jaebeom was looking at him made him feel like maybe he wanted it too. But he was rendered speechless. By the high. By the heat. By the way he had just had the most intense sexual experience of his life and now, of all times, there was a pressure to say something that wouldn’t ruin it. That wouldn’t ruin any chance of it happening again.

Jaebeom licked his lips, letting them hang open. This expression finally giving away that the silence was just as hard for him. But instead of trying to fill it himself, he buttoned his pants together, pushing himself up and back into the driver’s seat with little grace.

Youngjae suddenly felt too naked, too vulnerable. He hastily pulled up his pants. He grabbed at his shirt on the floor and slipped it back over his head. He looked out the window though there was nothing to look at except that glowing neon sign, flickering just as fast as every anxiety slipping through his mind. He heard the sound Jaebeom wiping his hand against his jeans roughly before gripping the steering wheel once again.

Jaebeom paused. His thoughts filling the space for just a moment before he seemed to retract, twisting the ignition and starting their drive home.

By the time they reached home, Youngjae felt near tears. The insecurity overtaking him. Not being sure of Jaebeom’s intentions. Assuming every worst-case scenario for what was happening. And it left him feeling used and shameful. And that damn music over the speakers only made his eyes gloss more as he looked out the window till his neck was sore. Desperately hiding his expression from Jaebeom.

They pulled up to the curb. Youngjae sniffed away any wavering tears. His eyes flicked over to Jaebeom, trying not to linger too much. Seeing how his stony profile refused to acknowledge him.

“Jaebeom,” Youngjae started, letting honorfics slide. Trying not to let his voice waver. “You can come up if you want.”

Jaebeom was still. He didn’t meet his eyes. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Youngjae swallowed. “Why not?”

Jaebeom didn’t answer. He just pressed his lips together. Just tightened his hands on the wheel until his knuckles shown white.

And a long enough moment passed where Youngjae realized that silence was the only legitimate answer Jaebeom could give him.

He sighed hard, opening the door and escaping back into that sopping summer night. Trudging his way back to the door and trying his hardest not look back as he heard the squelch of Jaebeom’s tires pulling away.

\---

Two more days went by. And Youngjae had a test and an upcoming gig and still he couldn’t focus for shit. Still found himself checking the weather reports and masochistically hoping for rain. But perhaps something in him had changed. After the first time Jaebeom drove him out to the gas station, he assumed it was a fluke. A concise end to whatever they had been doing for the past few weeks. But the last trip had proved that it wasn’t. That it was settling more into a pattern. And while a fluke was a fluke and didn’t always demand explanations for why it happened, a pattern was something different. Like Jaebeom, it was intentional and Youngjae felt empowered by that fact. Because it justified his longing to understand that intent.

After those two days went by, it rained again. And like clockwork, Youngjae was waiting under the overhang as Jaebeom pulled up. He slipped into the car, falling back into the routine but with a newfound objective.

They sat in the gas station parking lot. Jaebeom leaned his face close, his eyes dark and eyeing Youngjae’s mouth. His tongue flicked across his own lips in anticipation.

Youngjae raised a hand, placing it down at the center of Jaebeom’s chest. He felt the desire to slide it downwards. To give in to what they both wanted. But this night was different. Youngjae wanted answers. “What are we doing?” he sighed, looking down to Jaebeom’s eager mouth before trying to catch his eyes.

Jaebeom stopped, freezing under Youngjae’s touch. He retracted. He sat back in his seat. His mouth buttoning.

And Youngjae could feel how he had ruined the moment. Extinguished any fire that Jaebeom was harboring. The soulfulness of the music turning sad. But he pushed through. “I’m just trying to understand,” he shrugged. “It isn’t adding up.”

Jaebeom’s eyes looked out the windshield at the gas station. He reached his hands out, ringing against the edge of the steering wheel. Nervous.

Youngjae felt the tingle of nervousness simmering up inside of his core, threatening to come out his mouth. He mustered up all the courage he could. “Why do you bring me here?”

Jaebeom opened his mouth but hesitated around the words too long. In the end, he seemed to accept defeat. Letting his mouth close instead.

Youngjae reached out, putting a hand against his leg. Wordlessly trying to urge him to try. For both of their sakes.

It seemed to do the trick because Jaebeom reset his jaw and took a breath. “This place used to be open twenty-four hours,” he looked at the building longingly. “We used to sneak out in the middle of the night. Come here and grab snacks. Sit on the curb and just talk. Jinyoung. He always got the same thing. It was always…”

Jaebeom kept speaking, reliving the memory, a small smile pulling across his features that had been gloomy just a moment ago. But Youngjae had already felt himself disengage. His mind was floating away at the mention of that name. He felt the heat pricking his skin. It was happening again. This could never be just Jaebeom and Youngjae. And he was an idiot for ever thinking it could be. There was always someone else there. Even when Jinyoung wasn’t in the room. Hell, even when he wasn’t in the country. Even when he was broken up with Jaebeom. He was still there. Rage welled up inside of him. Suddenly, the car felt too close and small and he was struggling to breath. He pulled open the door, rushing out into the parking lot.

The sudden shift from hot to something cooler felt like a relief and even when the rain starting soaking through his clothes, Youngjae didn’t feel the need to hide from it. He began walking towards the road, firmly determined to be miles away from Jaebeom no matter how he got there.

“Youngjae!” he heard calling from behind him. The shout dampened by the rush of rain in his ears but still there. Always there.

Youngjae powered on, looking over his shoulder and seeing Jaebeom stepped out of his car. His eyes looking just as frantic as his voice. He slammed the car door and jogged over. “Wait,” he breathed, rushing in front of him and putting a hand against his chest.

Youngjae seethed, grabbing his hand and pulling it away. “Are you sure you’re calling the right name?”

Jaebeom’s hair was soaking quickly in the rain, dripping into his face and eyes. He thought for a moment, not getting it. But then it clicked, and he understood. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he shook his head.

“Be honest, Jaebeom,” Youngjae threw his hands. “I’m just some weird, rebound, revenge sex thing.” He brushed his shoulder roughly with his own and continued walking.

“That’s not it,” Jaebeom reached around and pulled his shoulder. His voice and grip firm.

Youngjae shrugged him off, facing him and stepping close to him to invade his space. “You’re still hung up on him,” Youngjae scoffed. “Despite everything he put you through.”

Jaebeom shook his head. “That’s not it,” he repeated. He looked down to his shoes, unable to meet his eyes.

“Then what are you doing, Jaebeom?” Youngjae snarled. “What’s your plan in all this?”

Jaebeom’s face crumbled. His shoulders dropped. The rain ran down his face in tendrils. Down his neck and pooling in the fabric of his t-shirt. Causing it to cling to his skin. His silence spoke volumes.

“You don’t have one, do you?” Youngjae’s voice went soft. Because he hadn’t expected it. For too many years, Jaebeom was always the one with the plan. The look in his eyes was always one of sureness, of determination. But he didn’t look like that anymore. Something about the way the streetlights and the rain hit his eyes made him look lost and dazed in a way that Youngjae hadn’t anticipated.

When he finally spoke, the words were soft with shame, with guilt. “A plan didn’t exactly serve me well last time, did it?”

The words hit Youngjae hard. Made his brain fiddle through them again at lightning speed. Once, twice, each time feeling more and more like the missing piece in all of this. In that moment, he could see exactly what had Jaebeom burning through the night. How desperate he was to not relive the past. And while the realization had Youngjae’s heart aching, the rage bit back. Because it still didn’t excuse his behavior. “And this time around?” Youngjae questioned, hearing the edge in his tone. “How would you say this is going?”

Jaebeom didn’t look up. He closed his eyes. A hand wiping the rainwater away from his face, skewing his bangs. He sighed hard, “I just need you to be patient with me.”

“I need to be patient?” Youngjae laughed. “That’s rich coming from you.”

Jaebeom looked back, eyes narrowing. “Don’t mince your words,” he gritted his teeth.

Youngjae fisted his hands. “You’ve been the one to initiate everything. You called me. You flirted with me. You kissed me. You kept bringing me out here to get off. I’ve been matching your pace this whole time,” he choked out, watching Jaebeom’s face pull tight in frustration. “But you’re right. Maybe I should be the one to slow down,” he bit out, lacing the words with sarcasm. He could see how each word he spat tightened Jaebeom little by little, winding him so tight, he looked like he could snap. And it felt oddly satisfying to be getting something out of him that wasn’t his friendly passivity or his silent fire.

Jaebum jolted forward. “I’m afraid, okay?!” he yelled. “Is that what you want to hear?”

Youngjae felt a breath leave his chest, stepping back unconsciously. He stilled. Not saying a word. Watching the fire roar alive.

Jaebeom’s chest heaved. “I never saw my life without Jinyoung,” he shook his head. “And maybe that makes me the idiot. Maybe I should have seen it coming. But, that relationship isn’t defining me anymore. I’m desperately trying to figure out who I am and what my life looks like without this person that I worked so hard to keep around,” he seethed.

“And I still don’t know who I am,” he swallowed. “I don’t know what I like and what I do for fun and what I’m passionate about.” he pursed his lips. “But, I know that when you tell me about your day and how school is going, it makes me not think so hard about everything else going on. And when I see you following your passions, it makes me want to do the same. And when I hear your laugh, I think it’s something I want to hear for a long time.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m doing,” he threw his hands, surrendering himself. “I’m just afraid. I don’t want to fuck this up again. Not with you.” He pressed his lips together. “Especially not with you.”

They stood there in silence for a while. The rain kept falling but Youngjae could barely hear it over the roar of his blood in his ears. He looked at Jaebeom. The way his brows tilted upward. The way his broad chest heaved. Looking like that same boy who came to his apartment and sunk to his floor, crying in his arms. The same boy who opened himself up because he had nothing left to hide. And he was doing it again. Shrinking back to that full moon in the sky, open and clear. And Youngjae wasn’t just searching for him. No. He was moving his mountain to be closer. To hold him up.

“Come on,” Youngjae said, softly. “Let’s go.” He walked straight past him, heading back to the car.

They drove the length home in silence. Jaebeom’s wet skin glistening under the highway lights. The smell of the damp fabric filling the car. No music played over the car speakers now. Instead it was just the sound of the rain and the whine of the tires. Youngjae could feel both of them disappearing into themselves. They pulled up to Youngjae’s building.

Jaebeom looked over to him and he looked back. His eyes were open and wide. He looked like he was about to speak and Youngjae could feel the stirring in his chest in anticipation. But before Jaebeom could say anything, his phone went off. He sighed, grabbing it from the cup holder. The screen lit up his pensive face.

Youngjae shook his head, a little annoyed. “Who’s texting you at this hour?”

“It’s my landlord,” he said, quietly, reading the message. His mouth went into a flat line. “The rain blew a tree onto our power lines. We’re out of power until morning.” His shoulders fell and he dropped his phone into his lap.

Youngjae licked his lips. “Come up to my place then,” he shrugged.

Jaebeom’s eyes continued to look off. “It’s fine,” Jaebeom shook his head. “I’m fine.”

“Jaebeom. You’re soaked,” Youngjae scoffed. “Your water heater isn’t even going to work.”

Jaebeom was quiet for a moment.

Youngjae sighed. “Just come up and take a quick shower. I’ll get you some dry clothes. Then you can go home and get some rest.”

He seemed to resist. Face pensive. Taking in a deep breath. Moving a hand through his wet hair. He let out the breath, hastily, swallowing hard. Surrendering. “Okay,” Jaebeom sighed, throwing the car into park and turning it off.

They both got out, no point in running out of the rain when they were already soaked. Youngjae scanned into the building, letting Jaebeom follow close behind him. They went up the elevator, silent and leaned up against opposite sides. Jaebeom didn’t meet his gaze, letting his hair fall into his eyes.

They reached Youngjae’s floor and Jaebeom came in. Youngjae didn’t bother with the lights, letting the flood of yellow streetlights illuminate the space. He sped to get him a towel from the closet. He pulled some clothes from his drawers that would be big enough to fit. He came out, seeing Jaebeom standing awkwardly in the space by the door. As if he hadn’t been there a million times. His eyes wide and his face unsure. “Here,” Youngjae handed the stack off to him. “Let me know if there’s anything else you need.”

Jaebeom nodded before disappearing into the bathroom. The light flicked on under the door. Youngjae could hear him turning on the shower, the screech of the spray cutting through the dark of the apartment.

Youngjae went to his room. He eased himself out of his drenched clothes, letting them fall to the floor with a splat. His hands glided across his skin. It was cool and damp, slightly sticky from rainwater. He ran a hand through his wet hair, sighing hard.

“Jaebeom,” he whispered out into the darkness, clicking his tongue against his teeth. “What am I going to do with you?”

He was so exhausted. So tired of seeing all the hesitations in Jaebeom’s face. So tired of him hiding everything he was thinking. As if his half-formed thoughts could just work themselves out without being voiced. As if shakily teetering in that impossible balance between keeping distance and giving in was helping either of them.

He sighed again, reaching for his pajamas. But the sound of a voice stopped him. Warm and soulful and soft. Echoing slightly. And it took him a few moments before he realized what it was. It was Jaebeom, singing to himself in the shower.

Youngjae went back out towards the living room. He looked at the bathroom door. The way the light cut under the edge of the door in a straight line. The way Jaebeom’s voice sailed through the still air. The song was something soft in 6/8. The rhythm of the melody skipping with momentum through the apartment. The falling of the rain and the falling of the shower water accompanying him.

And he thought back to Jaebeom. To the forest fire that was warm and bright despite its destructiveness. And he thought maybe that’s exactly what they needed. Maybe they needed to burn down any remnant of the past and start over. Burn Youngjae’s reckless pining. Jaebeom’s broken spirit. Their inevitable friendship that they couldn’t escape. Any plans they had for the future. Maybe they needed to douse it in gasoline and throw in a match and use the heat to fuel something better.

Youngjae stepped up, opening the door and immediately feeling the steam of the room enveloping him. His breaths deep and his vision blurred. His heartbeat rising in his chest, burning through him.

He stepped forward cautiously, the steam clouding the picture. But even so, he could see Jaebeom’s outline faced away from him. Tall and broad and expansive. Moving his hands through his hair.

The singing continued, Youngjae’s presence going undetected. The melody of Jaebeom’s soft voice carrying through the room, bouncing off the tile and making it sound even more heavenly.

Youngjae reached out, grasping the edge of Jaebeom’s shoulder firmly.

Jaebeom jolted slightly, looking over his shoulder. He stopped when his eyes fell on Youngjae’s. He turned himself fully to face him.

They looked at each other for a moment. Breathless in the heat and the steam.

Youngjae didn’t even really think about it before his hands went up to Jaebeom’s face. Feeling the heat of his cheeks radiating onto his palms. His eyes watching, as still as his chest.

Jaebeom finally let out a breath, shuttering and deep. “I’m fucking it up.”

“You are,” Youngjae nodded his head.

“So, what do I do?” His eyes were focused.

Youngjae’s swiped against the wet skin of Jaebeom’s cheek. “Hold me,” he whispered.

Without hesitation, Jaebeom reached his arms out, placing his hands firmly on Youngjae’s hip bones. Rounding them slightly just to feel the slide of their damp skin where it met.

Youngjae licked his lips. “Kiss me.”

Jaebeom leaned in, hovering. Youngjae could feel the way his shoulders shook. Youngjae pulled him in tight, feeling the flush of their damp chests. Jaebeom leaning in, letting his lips touch Youngjae’s softly as if he was scared to break him.

Youngjae felt all that warmth, the way Jaebeom quieted to a simmer under his kiss. The firmness of his mouth contrasted with the soft way he used it. And what was more representative of Jaebeom than that? How he used every ounce of his moral fiber to soften his innate firmness.

They pulled away slightly, leaning their foreheads together and letting their breathes mingle in the steam.

Youngjae’s breaths sped up along with his heart. He struggled to tamper them. Because for the first time, the control Jaebeom was giving him was genuine. It wasn’t in the confines of that car or their past, but something completely different.

“Take me to bed,” Youngjae breathed.

Jaebeom didn’t move for a moment, stilled in realization. But then he was twisting away, his forehead slipping against Youngjae’s as he leaned over. He gripped the handle of the faucet, turning off the water. He grabbed Youngjae’s hand, thumb absentmindedly running over his fingers. He pulled him towards the door, opening it and letting the light flood out into the living room.

Jaebeom dragged him to his bedroom, not bothering to close the door. The small shedding of excess bathroom light illuminating the space just enough. He sat down on the edge of the bed, reaching out again for Youngjae’s hips and drawing him between his open legs. Looking up at him.

Jaebeom licked his lips. His eyes wide. His mouth hanging open a little. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, voice trembling. “You didn’t deserve to be touched like that.”

Youngjae furrowed his brows. “Like what?”

His eyes stayed fixated. “Like you were something temporary.”

Youngjae felt the ache in his chest. He reached out, a hand coming to rest on Jaebeom’s neck, feeling the bob of his nervous throat. He glided his thumb against his sharp jaw and his firm lips.

“How do I deserve to be touched?” Youngjae whispered out, barely a sound over the echo of rain.

Jaebeom took in a breath. “Let me show you.”

The corners of Youngjae’s mouth pulled ever so slightly, but Jaebeom seemed to take it as consent. He leaned back onto the bed, dragging his hands over Youngjae’s sides and pulling him over him.

Youngjae complied, feeling the slide of their bare thighs and chests. Sparking like the strike of a match. And even though they had never been this naked with each other, something about it had him feeling unashamed.

Jaebeom moved his hands to Youngjae’s face, taking it in both hands. Looking at him for a moment before craning himself upward to connect their lips, again. Angling to the side to slip his tongue in, feeling the motion of his firm jaw working into him.

Youngjae hummed into the kiss, tasting that slide of Jaebeom’s mouth against his. Knowing that taste couldn’t exist outside of both of them together.

Jaebeom flipped them, effortlessly, bracing his knees on either side. His hands leaving his face to smooth his sides. Slowly, with care. Like he was trying to take it all in. Every contour of Youngjae sloping perfectly under Jaebeom’s warm hands.

Jaebeom pulled away to sit in Youngjae’s lap, looking down at him. His eyes trailing up and down his skin. Not the insatiable wildfire who had got him off in the car. No, now he was quelled back to that unobscured full moon. Resting himself atop Youngjae’s mountain and admiring the peaks and valleys. Shining only for him.

And if what had been happening on their drives had been surreal, this was otherworldly. Because sure, Jaebeom getting him off had been one thing that he would have never imagined. And probably, some sick, twisted part of him would have lived out his days letting Jaebeom use him like that if that’s all he was willing to give.

But this. This was what he had always wanted. Not just that hard side of Jaebeom but every side. All of his contradictions.

Jaebeom leaned back down resting one arm next to Youngjae’s head while the other trailed along his chest and hips. He captured his lips again.

And Youngjae kissed him for all he was worth. Kissed him like he was trying to make up those past four years. He hissed through his teeth as Jaebeom’s hand started to stroke him in time. His hands scrambled to touch Jaebeom, moving over his hips and ass and drawing him closer. He felt the way they were growing increasingly hard against each other, but it felt so different without the resistance of fabric, with Jaebeom’s hand strong and secure around him.

Jaebeom’s lips diverted, going into Youngjae’s neck and biting down into the flesh causing him to groan.

And Youngjae felt too much welling up inside of himself. All of the attention was fixated on him. And he had to fight through the feelings in order to push Jaebeom away, push him onto his back and crawl over him and trail his hands down until they were closing around him and stroking him at a quicker pace, trying to balance their highs.

Jaebeom groaned, letting his head fall back against the pillow before he was pulling himself up onto his forearms, watching how he slipped through Youngjae’s tight fist.

Youngjae could feel the precum leaking out onto his fingers, giving way to a smoother slide. The sight of it making his eyes water. And his mind kept running scenarios of how this could go down. How he wanted Jaebeom to spill for him. He bit his lip. Knowing what he wanted but being hesitant to ask. He looked up towards Jaebeom who looked back.

The boy’s eyes were wide like he knew what Youngjae was thinking. And he wanted him to say it.

Youngjae licked his lips. “I want to-“

“Yes,” Jaebeom choked out. “Please.”

Youngjae’s grin grew. He stopped stroking Jaebeom. He leaned over to his bedside table, opening the drawer and rummaging through for the lube that was buried further than he wanted from disuse. But eventually his fingers felt out the shape and pulled it out.

He uncapped it, squeezing it into his fingers. He looked into Jaebeom’s face.

His eyes were wide. Mouth open. Chest heaving. Anticipating.

Youngjae smoothed his hand down between his legs. Fingers extending out to circle Jaebeom’s entrance, hearing the boy hiss through his teeth. Youngjae worked a finger into him.

Jaebeom groaned loud, spreading his legs further open.

Youngjae massaged him, feeling the tight ring loosening around his touch. He slipped in one more, the walls making space as he began to scissor his fingers.

Jaebeom was noisy, nearly rolling away before he was settling back. Maneuvering his hips down and down and down. Pushing up against Youngjae’s hand, insatiably.

Youngjae looked upon him. How he was open and vulnerable and communicative in a completely different way now. And Youngjae had never pictured him like this. In his bed, trying to let Youngjae deeper and deeper in more ways than one. And somehow, when he looked at Jaebeom, he knew that this was only for him.

He slid his fingers out, leaving Jaebeom’s chest heaving and his eyes searching for him. Youngjae slicked himself, eager and impatient. He grabbed at Jaebeom’s knees, peeling them away until the muscle wouldn’t pull any further. Leaving nothing but openness between them.

He looked to Jaebeom’s face. The boy’s eyebrows were tilted upward. The black of his eyes glittering in the low light. His tongue moving over his lips. There was no hesitation in his features now. Only need. Only need for Youngjae.

Youngjae slipped into him and they both let out a harsh breath. He rocked his hips back, watching as Jaebeom chased him, before leaning them forward, sliding deeper and deeper with every motion until they were becoming fluid. A steady rhythm.

His hands gripped at Jaebeom’s firm hips, leveraging himself. He rolled himself against Jaebeom, feeling the way his walls softened for him. The hot throb of his body. Rocking out just to be welcomed back in.

He looked down, seeing how Jaebeom was still hard and shiny between them and he reached his hand back around him. He gripped him with firm fingers, fisting him roughly.

And Jaebeom pulled himself up, his hand going to Youngjae’s neck until they were folded together, jerking from the meeting of their hips. Their foreheads pressed and their pants mingling. Jaebeom closed the space, kissing Youngjae hard as he breathed deeply through his nose. Licking into him immediately.

And Youngjae kissed back, feeling the way Jaebeom’s body became that mix of hard and soft. The soft warmth of his mouth and his walls that were eager to accept him. The throbbing hardness in his hands and the plateaus of muscle that stretched out between them. More raw than anything Youngjae could have imagined.

Jaebeom pants were becoming whines, desperate in Youngjae’s mouth.

He kept pumping him, feeling the way he was coming apart in his hands.

Jaebeom moaned loud, not holding back as he came into Youngjae’s fist. The cum smearing between their stomachs. And it was all so real. The taste of his moans and the sensation of his cum and the tight pull of his muscles. And Youngjae slammed into him with finality, releasing everything with a whine. Slotting into Jaebeom’s neck as the boy continued to rock his hips, guiding him through his climax.

Youngjae collapsed on top of him. Jaebeom laced his arms around his waist pulling him close, laying them down side by side on the bed. He held him tightly, contorting his body around him and craning his face into Youngjae's neck. They let their breaths die down, their chests even out.

Youngjae felt the broadness of Jaebeom encircling him, nuzzling into his neck, like every dream he hated waking up from. And it was like this that they fell asleep to the sound of the rain.


	4. The Light in the Dark

The morning couldn’t have been clearer. Sunlight cutting through, hot and bright. The buzz of the powerlines outside. Youngjae stirred awake, blinking his cloudy eyes. Seeing how the light came through his window. The green of the trees outside, rustling slightly in the wind. The clear blue sky that had been cleansed with last night’s rain.

His body woke slowly, all his senses were powering up inch by inch. He felt warm. Warmer than just the summer day radiating through his apartment. He felt pressure. Against his middle. The arm snaking around him, gripping him tightly. And then a weight on the mattress next to him. His eyes fluttered, looking over.

And Jaebeom was there, head propped up on one hand. Eyes open. Hair messy. Chest bare. Mouth pulled up around the edges. Watching him.

And Youngjae felt even warmer.

“Good morning,” Jaebeom said, his voice smooth and soft like a purr.

Youngjae rolled himself quickly, his hands going to Jaebeom’s face and pulling him in. He brought their lips together.

Jaebeom let out a surprised noise before settling. Kissing Youngjae back, so soft like he was holding back. His hand moving down to his hip and pulling it closer until their bodies made a straight line against each other.

But out of nowhere, Youngjae remembered. He shot up. “Oh no,” he gasped. “Oh fuck,” he rushed out of bed, climbing over Jaebeom and going to the bedside table. He checked his phone. “Fuck,” he hissed.

“What?” Jaebeom was sitting up now, his eyes big with surprise. “What is it?”

Youngjae dropped his shoulders, groaning loud. “I had a train ticket for 9:00am. I have a gig I need to go to,” he whined. He ran to his closet, opening it up and starting to pull on clothes. “Ugh. I should have remembered last night. I should have set an alarm. God. I’m an idiot.”

Jaebeom shook his head. “You’re not gonna make it.”

“Fuck,” Youngjae pulled a shirt over his head before fisting his hair. “Ugh. What am I gonna do?”

“Where is it?”

Youngjae sighed. “It’s all the way in Geochang. Outside Daegu.”

Jaebeom licked his lips. His shoulders looking even better all bare and broad in Youngjae’s bed. And if Youngjae hadn’t been facing a moral crisis, he knew the only thing he would be doing is crawling back over to him and spending the rest of this morning kissing him. Even if his mind was still unsure of what that meant.

“Let me drive you,” Jaebeom said.

Youngjae stopped, shaking from his reverie. “What?”

“Yeah,” Jaebeom shrugged. “I’m free today.”

Youngjae took a deep breath. “Hyung,” he shook his head. “It’s a three-hour drive.”

Jaebeom nodded. “I know. But, it’s my fault you’re late.”

Youngjae kept shaking his head. “No, you don’t have to do that.”

Jaebeom looked back at him. “Youngjae. I’m offering because I want to.”

He looked at him. The blacks of his eyes glittering the morning light. And the meaning wasn’t just that Jaebeom felt responsible but more than that. Though Youngjae didn’t have the time to try and pick apart what it was.

“Okay,” Youngjae said, his voice small. “Get dressed.”

Youngjae packed up his things: his suit, his sheet music, his day clothes. He met Jaebeom down at the car as he was on his phone, trying to find the best route. “What kind of event is this?”

“It’s a mutual friend’s wedding,” Youngjae said. “I would have never agreed to go this far if I didn’t know them. But now it’s biting me in the ass.”

“I see,” Jaebeom nodded, looking up from his phone. “Well if traffic is good, we should make it with plenty of time. Are you ready?”

Youngjae sat in the passenger seat. And it was weird. Cause it was daytime and it wasn’t raining. And that hesitant tension that usually filled the car was gone and replaced with something he wasn’t sure he could place. Something refreshingly simple.

“I’m ready,” he nodded, buckling his seatbelt and flicking on the upbeat pop of the radio.

\---

The drive was more comfortable than Youngjae could have imagined it would be. Where communication had been blocked, it now flowed freely. They wove between topics like lanes on the highway. And it felt like one of their phone calls. Nothing like their rainy nights.

And sometimes, Youngjae would look over at Jaebeom and see how relaxed his hands were against the wheel. Loose and leaning back in his seat. His smile broad and his crescent eyes gentle. And it made him wonder if Jaebeom’s wildfire could really be truly extinguished or if it was still lurking somewhere below, threatening their chances of peace.

Halfway there, their stomachs were rumbling and Jaebeom assured him that they were making good time and could stop. They sat down at a rest stop cafeteria table, trays of food clacking together.

“We should arrive in Daegu in another hour,” Jaebeom said around a bite of food while looking at his phone. “And I think the wedding hall is only about a half hour west of that.”

“It’s not actually wedding hall,” Youngjae corrected, taking another bite.

“Then, where are they having it?”

He swallowed. “The couple met at summer camp many years ago. And they are a bit eccentric. The groom is a theater major, which is how we have a mutual friend. I think the bride does pottery? Or was it sculpture? I’m forgetting now.”

Jaebeom nodded, listening as he tipped his head back to finish off a bowl of broth. When he put the bowl back down, a spot of soup marred his chin.

Youngjae reached over, swiping it away with his thumb before wiping it against a napkin and looking back to him.

Jaebeom gave a smirk.

“Anyway,” Youngjae redirected. “They met at this summer camp when they were in their early teens. They always promised each other they’d come back and get married there. So, it’s on the campgrounds. They are even going to have people spend the night there. Camping and everything.”

“Sounds unique,” Jaebeom nodded. “You’ll have to tell me how it goes.”

Youngjae let his spoon keep stirring his food as he thought. He looked up at Jaebeom, who continued to eat. “You should come with me,” he said.

Jaebeom looked up a little from his meal in passing. “Where?”

“To the wedding,” Youngjae said. “Be my date.”

Jaebeom sat up, looking back at him. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’m positive,” Youngjae nodded.

“I mean,” Jaebeom hesitated. “I don’t have a suit.”

“We’ll find you a suit,” Youngjae urged. “If you want to come that is.”

Jaebeom thought for a moment, processing. “Okay,” he said, softly. “I’ll come.”

\---

“I feel ridiculous,” Jaebeom came out of the dressing room. They had managed to find a back-alley thrift store when they got into Daegu. Racks of clothing stretched on across the warehouse. And it smelled musty, but the women were so kind and helpful when they told them of their last-minute emergency. They had stocked Jaebeom’s dressing room with mismatched polyesters in every possible fit.

Youngjae looked him up and down. A blue linen jacket with black pants. Underneath a black button up peaked out, not quite buttoned all the way. Ever so slightly too tight across his chest so that the buttons were looking a little strained, which likely couldn’t be avoided.

“What are you talking about?” Youngjae huffed, crossing his arms. “You look great, hyung. I like this better than the corduroy one you tried on before. And you won’t be nearly as hot.”

“I look like I’m trying to sell real estate at this wedding,” he slid his hands in his pockets, appraising himself in the mirror.

Youngjae laughed. “No,” he said, before thinking. “Well,” he tilted his head before shaking away what he’d planning on saying. “It looks nice.”

Jaebeom shook his head. “If you think it looks okay. You’re the one who has to wear me on your arm all night.”

Youngjae felt himself flush from the realization. “I know,” he grinned. “How did I get so lucky?”

And Jaebeom tried to stifle his own growing smile. “Come on,” he started pulling the jacket off. “Let’s pay and be on our way.”

\---

When they got to the venue, the guests were arriving as well. When Youngjae looked out of the window he saw the open landscape. Somehow still green and lush despite the heat of summer. The mountains backdropping seemingly endless plains. The sky had no threat of looming rain. Just cloudless blue that bowed around the edges. Cars were parking, organizing themselves along vinyl flagging tape. The guests were getting out of their cars, straightening their outfits, before filtering towards the same direction. The sound of an amplified cello luring them.

Jaebeom and Youngjae got out of the car, popping the trunk. Youngjae handed Jaebeom his jacket before pulling out his own things.

Jaebeom slipped on it, doing one of the buttons carefully across his tight torso. “Do you have everything you need?” he asked, squinting at the sun.

Youngjae double checked that he had the right sheet music. He looked over his black suit, making sure it clung in all the right spots. He tightened his necktie. “Yeah. I’m good to go,” he looked up at Jaebeom, seeing how his hair stuck up in the back. He scoffed slightly, “Your hair’s all messy.” He stepped forward.

Jaebeom’s eyes flicked up, lowering his head to gain him access.

He smoothed his fingers over Jaebeom’s locks, laying them straight. “There.”

Jaebeom grabbed his wrist before he could step back. He dragged their palms together, interlocking their fingers. “I’d wish you good luck, but I know you don’t need it,” he smiled.

Youngjae felt the rush of it running up his arm. “You’re right. I don’t,” Youngjae said, confidently. “I’ll meet up with you after the ceremony. I need to go warm up.” He squeezed his hand before releasing it, taking a few steps back, waving before walking himself up to the venue.

Not able to wipe the smile off his face.

\---

The ceremony was right around sunset. The space carpeted with green grass that shown more vibrant in the yellowing light of the sun as it glittered through the trees. White chairs sat in perfect, even lines like teeth, leading up to a white fabric draped arch. Behind the arch, rows upon rows of tall trees rustled together, letting the sun peek through in bits and pieces. Everything about the setting was a mix of elegant and organic. The bright whites of the décor contrasted the lush natural greens.

The bride walked down the aisle to a piano and cello piece. Her dress flowing behind her in a draping train. The rustle of the trees that harmonized with the cello. The euphoric smiles that painted the bride and groom’s faces as they came together. The crowd was taken with the sheer romance of it all.

Youngjae sat somewhere behind the bride, alongside the other musicians, knowing his piece was coming up sometime after the vows and after they thanked the parents. He watched the way the groom reached out his hands, taking the brides’ and looking at her with pure wonder in his eyes. And he couldn’t help that feeling in his chest that grew. As if he could really grasp what that must feel like. To be awestruck by someone like that. Youngjae’s eyes looked over to Jaebeom. He was sitting towards the back, not knowing any of the other guests. He was staring up at the couple. Almost unblinking. His eyes were filled with a heavy gloss. A breath was held in his broad chest.

And Youngjae’s heart sank a little. He hadn’t considered it until that moment. He hadn’t considered that being at this wedding could be stirring up emotions in Jaebeom that hadn’t quite settled. And the thought scared him. He quickly wondered if the setting would have Jaebeom shutting down again. Fanning the quiet flames of his hesitancies and his fears.

Jaebeom must have felt eyes on him cause his glance flicked over to Youngjae. And Youngjae wanted to look away, hide that he had been staring. But what was the point anymore in denying that his eyes always went to Jaebeom? Jaebeom blinked, the gloss shining under the light of the setting summer sun. But then, Jaebeom’s face blossomed into a soft smile, his eyes collapsing into crescents and his teeth threatening to poke through the upturn of his lips. All that warm light that was hitting his face was projected outwards. And Youngjae knew he never wanted to look away.

And this was the way Youngjae had always imagined loving him. From afar. And he had been fine with that. He hadn’t had a choice but to be fine with it. But as their eyes met and Jaebeom’s eyes and mouth crinkled around the edges, he knew that loving him from afar would never be enough now. And the unsteady feeling peaked through. That there were still things unsaid. But he tried his hardest to push it down. Knowing that just like the rain-cleared sky, it would all come to light eventually.

\---

After the ceremony, the guests were ushered into the reception space for dinner. Night was falling now and the space was illuminated by lines of fairy lights that gave the field an ethereal glow against the darkening purple twilight. Even Youngjae had to admit, letting his eyes defocus on the bright lights, that it was one of the most breathtaking things he’d ever seen.

Youngjae’s eyes wandered among the guests, looking for the boy in the blue coat. After the hustle of moving guests post-ceremony, he had lost sight of him in the crowd. His mind tried to stop from tumbling down a rabbit hole of doubt. That Jaebeom was behind one of the camp cabins with tears in his eyes and a drink in his hand, wishing to be miles from here. But as his eyes darted around with increasing urgency, Youngjae felt a warm hand coming to grip his hip and the nudge of a chest against his shoulder.

“You were amazing,” a voice spoke into his ear, laced with a smile.

Youngjae turned to see Jaebeom. In all his closeness, the fairy lights shining against his crescent eyes. Youngjae felt static erupting from the touch, quelling his doubts to nothingness.

Youngjae smiled. “Thank you,” he said.

“Let’s get a drink and find our seats,” Jaebeom said. He offered his arm.

Youngjae huffed a laugh at the cheesiness of the moment before lacing his arm through and starting towards the bar.

Youngjae’s seats were at the table with the other ceremony musicians who were also doctorate students at his school. As dinner was served, they mingled lightly. Discussing their professors. Jaebeom followed along, asking the right questions and cracking the right jokes. Showing off his charms. All the while, Youngjae could feel the brush of Jaebeom’s leg under the table. The way his hand would sometimes come to lay against his thigh. His thumb making small comforting circles.

Some time, after they’d finished eating, Youngjae looked over to see Jaebeom’s eyes wandering. When Youngjae followed them upwards, he could see the way he was watching the bride and groom at their table. The way the couple laughed together with their shoulders close. The joyful smiles across their faces. Jaebeom’s own face a little tight.

Youngjae leaned over. “What’s it like?” he said into his ear.

Jaebeom shifted his eyes away, self-conscious. His shoulders tightening a little. “What?”

“Being at a wedding,” Youngjae shrugged, keeping his voice close and low. “A wedding that’s not yours.”

Jaebeom licked his lips. He weighed his words. “I really wanted it,” he said. “Not just with him. For me as well. Because that’s a role I see myself filling in someone’s life. And I just… really thought it was my time.”

Youngjae didn’t feel that same sting of jealousy he felt last night at the mention of Jinyoung. Because it was clear that it wasn’t really about Jinyoung at all. It was about Jaebeom and the narrative he had wanted for himself. The way he had identified himself for so long and how it felt to be so drastically wrong about it. “It wasn’t your time,” Youngjae agreed. He slipped Jaebeom’s hand into his under the table, letting their fingers intertwine. “But you’ll still get that time one day,” he urged.

Jaebeom pursed his lips. “I know that now,” he nodded. He squeezed Youngjae’s hand. “And I’m looking forward to it.”

Their eyes locked similarly to their hands. Soft and supportive. Sending out unvoiced messages. Youngjae telling Jaebeom it would be okay. That he would fill that role in due time for someone else. And Jaebeom telling Youngjae that… well. Youngjae didn’t want to think too hard about what Jaebeom’s gaze was telling him.

Distantly, Youngjae could hear the way the background music picked up. Shifting from something orchestral to something more popular and upbeat. He watched as guests began to rise from their tables, making their way to the open space in the middle.

“Dance with me,” Jaebeom said.

“What?” Youngjae asked, looking back.

“Yeah, come on,” Jaebeom stood up, dragging Youngjae’s hand with it.

And as he felt the strong pull of Jaebeom, it was the most familiar thing in the world.

\---

Their calves were sore and their jackets were long discarded, top few buttons undone and sleeves pushed up to their elbows. Youngjae’s breath was champagne laced and Jaebeom had a spot of dried frosting going unnoticed on his cheek from where Youngjae had tried to feed him. They gathered their things from their table. They were about to head out when someone approached.

“Youngjae-ssi!” the groom called, coming over and patting him on the back. “I wanted to thank you again for coming. Everyone was in awe of your performance. I’m so happy you could drive down for it.”

“Of course. Congratulations, again,” Youngjae bowed. “We were just on our way out.”

The groom looked between them, furrowing his brows. “Are you two not planning on staying on the grounds tonight?”

“Oh no,” Youngjae shook his head. “We should really be heading back to Seoul.”

“Are you sure?” The groom shook his head. “We would love for you to stay. We have extra tents.”

Youngjae looked back to Jaebeom. His voice hesitant. “I don’t-“

“Let’s do it,” Jaebeom urged, eyes bright.

Youngjae felt the smile pulling tight against his face. “Really?” he said.

“Yeah,” Jaebeom nodded, focusing back to the groom. “Where are those tents?”

They went and got their things from the car, coming back to see the reception space closing down and guests filtering to another area of the field. A bonfire burned bright and large in the center while guests set up their tents, sharing drinks and laughs. A few still singing loudly without music.

They found a spot near the fringes of the campground and Youngjae called out instructions while Jaebeom put the tent together. When it was finally done, Jaebeom held open the front for Youngjae. “Home sweet home.”

Youngjae clapped for him. “You did good, hyung. Even if it took twenty minutes.” He climbed in, stretching out against the mat they had unrolled onto the floor.

Jaebeom laughed, following him in. “I would have gotten it done quicker if I didn’t have you trying to be the project manager from the sideline.” He laid down on his side, letting his elbow hold his head.

They fell quiet for a moment. Jaebeom looking a little nervous. “I don’t like telling people this,” he finally said. “But this is what I want to do one day.” He beckoned around them.

“Live in a tent?” Youngjae smiled.

Jaebeom laughed. “No,” he shoved Youngjae’s shoulder. “I want to build my own house. From the ground up.”

“Why wouldn’t you tell people that?” Youngjae asked.

“I don’t know,” Jaebeom’s fingers occupied themselves on the material of the mat. “I just… don’t want it to not work out. And then look like a failure.”

Youngjae sat up, facing him. Looking at his worried face. How he carried around these unspoken standards for himself that no one else was holding him to. “Well I think it’s awesome,” Youngjae reached his fingers out, brushing his hair away from his face. “And I know how unstoppable you are when you put your heart into something.”

Jaebeom smiled but an errant thought seemingly swept over him, causing the smile to falter until it dropped. They fell silent for a while and Youngjae watched him. His eyes downcast and his fingers trying to stay occupied. Outside of the tent, the bonfire burned orange and even at a distance the glow of it silhouetted him.

“You’re thinking too loud,” Youngjae whispered. He reached out, putting a hand to his cheek and thumbing against the skin. “You tend to do that when you don’t know what to say.”

Jaebeom looked up, holding a breath. “I can’t help it,” he furrowed his brows. “I don’t want to say the wrong thing.”

“If it’s the truth, it will never be the wrong thing,” Youngjae smoothed his hand down Jaebeom’s neck.

Jaebeom let out his breath. He licked his lips. Putting in considerable effort. “Today was... good. Really good. Every moment of it,” Jaebeom said, softly. “But I don’t know what’s going to happen when I wake up tomorrow. Or next month. Or five years down the line. And that’s really daunting.”

“No one knows,” Youngjae shrugged. “But we’re all doing the best we can.”

Jaebeom seemed nervous at that prospect.

“Come here,” Youngjae beckoned him. He leaned forward out of the tent, looking up to the skyline. “When you look into that horizon, what do you see?”

Jaebeom sat up, following Youngjae’s gaze. He blinked. “Nothing,” Jaebeom shrugged. “It’s just darkness.”

“Exactly,” Youngjae nodded. “But you know the mountains are there regardless. You trust that they are there. Right?”

Jaebeom nodded, lips pressing into a thin line.

“That’s how it’s going to be sometimes. The path won’t always be clear. The future won’t always be certain,” Youngjae smiled. “But even when you can’t see the mountains, you need to trust that they are there.”

They sat there, knees and fingers nearly brushing. Jaebeom was looking at him. His eyes dancing in the firelight. He reached up, gripping the zipper of the tent and dragging it close. He walked his hands forward, leaning up onto his knees, bringing his face close. His breaths deep and even. His nose brushed Youngjae’s cheek.

And Youngjae stilled. He closed his eyes, relishing the feeling. His head burning like the bonfire outside. Crackling and warm.

Jaebeom dragged it against his cheekbone, tilting upwards until there was the graze of his lips, barely there. Dragging slowly downwards, reaching the corner of his mouth. Kissing him there. Grazing closer and closer until his lips pressed firm against Youngjae’s mouth.

Youngjae kissed him back. Feeling the unstoppable upturn of his own lips making the kiss tight and shallow.

Jaebeom kissed the side of his mouth again and again, trailing each of them downward until he was reaching a hand out to pull at his collar so he could fit into the space where his neck met his shoulder. He let his teeth poke through and graze the skin.

Youngjae felt the sensation dripping through his veins as if Jaebeom had a venomous bite that made every nerve stand pin straight.

Jaebeom’s teeth continued to grate the skin, his tongue licking over it as if to smooth it just before roughing it up again. The mix of it had Youngjae’s throat giving way to little whimpers that sneaked out between breaths. He shoved his hands against Jaebeom’s chest. “Hyung,” Youngjae murmured in between breaths. “They are gonna hear us.”

Jaebeom pushed back, not letting himself be moved from the spot on Youngjae’s neck. “I don’t care,” Jaebeom hissed into the skin. “Let them.”

His fingers went into the buttons of Youngjae’s shirt, working each and everyone one of them open. He pushed his shirt off his shoulders, feeling the bare skin before pushing him down against the mat. All the while, working mark after mark into his neck. He skimmed his fingers down Youngjae’s torso before reaching the fabric of his suit pants. He began to work his fingers against him in wide, slow circles.

And Youngjae felt thankful that the pants were so thin because he could practically feel the edges of Jaebeom’s fingerprints catching on every small fiber that separated them. Almost tangible enough to make believe there was nothing between. He maneuvered his hips up, desperate to feel Jaebeom’s warm hand.

Jaebeom pulled away from his neck, propping himself up on one hand, looming over Youngjae, watching his face. The other hand moving slowly, undoing the clasp of his pants, sliding down the zipper. Every motion contained in this hourglass that was moving grain by grain and Youngjae hoped it never ran out.

He felt the way that Jaebeom’s hand dipped beneath the waistband, finally giving him proper, if not overwhelming, friction. He made a fist around Youngjae, swallowed him up.

Now Youngjae really couldn’t stop whimpering, replacing every exhale with a desperate sound. He put an arm over his eyes, feeling overwhelmed and trying to block at least one sense out. Because it was like they were all coming to the forefront at once.

Jaebeom grabbed his wrist, pulling it down. “No, baby,” he said, smoothly. With the same level of care that his hands gave. “Keep looking at me.”

He wanted to blush but there was no point in being shy. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, Jaebeom had slipped in between all the cracks of Youngjae. And it went beyond their unavoidable friendship, their late-night phone calls, their rainy hook ups. It was all of those things and everything in between. He permeated every layer of him.

But unlike before, it didn’t just feel incidental. They weren’t just trapped by the closeness of their relationships or the collateral damage of Jaebeom’s broken heartedness. No, this felt intentional. Like Jaebeom was slipping in all those cracks to patch them up.

Jaebeom didn’t stop pumping Youngjae as he adjusted himself so that he was straddling one of his thighs. And as he stroked, his hips began to grind, rutting against him as he twisted his wrist in the same rhythm.

Youngjae could feel how hard Jaebeom was. He pulled himself up. “Stop making this about me,” he sighed, hands reaching out towards him. Desperate to ease him in the same way.

Jaebeom pushed against his chest again, trying to get him to lie down. “No, no,” he shook his head. “This has to be about you now. It’s always been about me.”

Youngjae fought back, gritting his teeth and fisting Jaebeom’s shirt to pull himself back up. “No,” he breathed. “This has to be about us.”

He knew what would happen if Jaebeom denied him this. He knew he’d have to push him off, leave the tent. Walk off into the line of those dark woods and find some other light to bask in. And he was willing to do that.

But instead, Jaebeom looked down at him a moment, his hand slowing against him. And he nodded. “You’re right,” he said. Conceding. He pulled away, laying himself down next to him. His eyes anticipating.

Youngjae sat on top of him, leaning forward and kissing him hard. Tongue slipping in and remembering that taste again. “I didn’t tell you to stop touching me,” he murmured into his mouth.

And he felt Jaebeom breath a laugh before his hand snuck back down around him, stroking him again.

Youngjae gripped the edge of Jaebeom’s shirt, untucking it from his dress pants. He pushed it up his torso, not even bothering to take it off. His hands worked the clasp of his pants open, pushing them down his thighs until Jaebeom was kicking them off.

Youngjae wrapped his hand around Jaebeom, looking down to watch the beads of precum spilling over. He dragged his thumb against it, spreading it. Seeing how Jaebeom watched it with a noise trapped in the back of his throat.

Jaebeom increased the pace of his hand on Youngjae as if modeling what he himself wanted and Youngjae matched it, flicking their wrists in time.

Youngjae leaned forward, kissing him harder this time because his body was starting to thrum and he could barely take it. All those grains in the hourglass were running out and he had to hold on for as long as he could. The blood started to rush in his ears and the campfire didn’t feel outside but inside Youngjae’s middle and moving down and down and down through him.

Jaebeom bit down on his lip, increasing the pace of his hand, like he could taste the way he was getting close.

Maybe as expected, Youngjae was the first to come. Burying his high-pitched whines into Jaebeom neck and spilling over his stomach. It slipped into the grooves of his own fingers where they were still pumping Jaebeom, mixing with him and increasing the slide. And Youngjae took a quick breath before tightening his fist and increasing his pace.

“Fuck,” Jaebeom sighed. “Fuck like that.” He seethed through his teeth. “Aw, fuck, Youngjae.” His voice nothing but exhales and his face nothing but closed eyes and damp temples.

“Keep looking at me,” Youngjae turned his words against him. “I wanna see you.”

And Jaebeom looked up into his face, eyebrows tilted up. The black of his eyes too wide and too bright, that light in the night that wouldn’t dim. His jaw tensed and fell open, groaning loud as he came across his torso.

And they stayed like that for a moment, looking at each other. Breathing in each other’s frantic air. But Jaebeom’s mouth was the first to break, grinning wide before drawing a hand around the back of Youngjae’s neck and pulling him in to kiss him again.

\---

When they woke up the next morning, they were tangled together. Slightly sticky with each other’s sweat. They unpeeled themselves, changing back into their day clothes and stumbling out of their tent. Around the campsite, the guests were waking slowly. Stretching out in the morning sun, hazed by visible hangovers. The bonfire nothing but smoky embers.

Youngjae and Jaebeom broke down their tent, depositing it alongside the pile that was accumulating as others were leaving.

They walked the length back to their car, noticing how the parking lot was clearing out. “Are you ready to head home?” Youngjae dumped his balled-up suit in the trunk of Jaebeom’s car and slammed it shut.

“Can we,” Jaebeom stopped him. “Could we maybe go explore a bit? I overheard some people talking about a few trails here. I wanted to take some pictures. Do you have time for that?”

Youngjae smiled. “I have all the time in the world,” he nodded.

They walked back towards the wall of trees lining the campground, finding an opening between them where a path laid out, worn down by the passage of many years of camp goers.

The two of them hiked along the trail. The weather was perfect. A late summer breeze danced through the trees, making them simmer alive with noise. The smell of cool dirt and fresh trees cleared out the dirty Seoul air from their lungs. Jaebeom stopped every now and then, taking a picture of a fallen log or a colorful bird that caught his eye. The shutter of the lens echoing through the vastness.

And every once in a while, Youngjae would look over to Jaebeom and see the way he looked back. No longer looking away to hide their smiles but displaying them fully for each other to see.

After walking for a while, they came upon a clearing. An expansive meadow that cascaded across many acres. Untouched by man. All tall grass that grazed their hips as they waded through it.

Youngjae picked up speed, running ahead before throwing out his arms and spinning. He let himself fall, collapsing against the grass. It was thick and dense enough to catch him, softening his fall.

He slipped his hands behind his head, closing his eyes and tilting his chin to the sky. He could hear the music of the landscape. The brush of the grass. The whistle of the wind. A distant bird calling out. He heard a click, opening his eyes and squinting up at the shadow that eclipsed the sun.

Jaebeom was over him, his camera held up to his face, pointed down towards him. He pulled it away, smile wide across his face.

Youngjae laughed. “Come lay with me,” he waved his hand towards him before letting it fall to his side.

Jaebeom slid his camera strap away, joining Youngjae among the grass. He leaned back. His hand brushing Youngjae’s arm, almost as if by accident. But his fingers continued dancing across the skin of his forearm, upwards until they reached his hand. Fitting their palms together, feeling the meeting of skin. Delicately interlacing their fingers.

“I was wrong,” Jaebeom said, voice soft from beside him.

Youngjae looked up at their hands, at how their fingers brushed together. How natural it felt. “About what?”

“Which universe we’re in.”

Youngjae felt the smile break across his face. “It seems so.” He took in a breath. Feeling his heart stir as the question weighted itself on his tongue. Flashing back to the fluorescent light of his kitchen. To disappointing answers. But he knew that if he didn’t ask now, then the opportunity might be lost forever. “What would you say now? Which universe is this?”

Jaebeom propped himself up on his elbow, so he could look at Youngjae. His lips turning up around the edges. “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “I’m enjoying it.”

Youngjae felt warm all over and the rush of the wind around him was nothing compared to the thrumming of his blood in his ears. “I am too,” he said.

“Youngjae,” Jaebeom said softly. “I want to be clear,” he put a warm hand against Youngjae’s neck. He took a deep breath. “I don’t want to go back to Seoul as friends.”

Youngjae felt the drop of his stomach. The tightness of his chest. And while it was everything he wanted to hear, he didn’t want to leave anything more unsaid. Not this time. “Jaebeom,” he sighed. “You know me. You know that I don’t want you unless it’s all of you. I don’t want to just be your phone call at the end of a long day. Or your hook up when you’re confused. Or your road trip when you don’t want to think about anything else. I want to be there for all of it. Or none of it.”

“Youngjae,” Jaebeom rolled his eyes but smiled. “Do you think I would be saying this if I only wanted to keep blowing you in my car?”

Youngjae couldn’t help but smile a little.

Jaebeom twisted his lips, growing serious again. “This hasn’t been easy for me. Or you. And I’m sorry for that. I was being a selfish idiot,” he trailed his hand down, letting his fingers hook into Youngjae’s belt loop, nervously. “But you’re right. Even if I can’t see the mountains, I need to trust they are there. And you’ve always been there. And it’s about time I let myself be there for you.”

Youngjae’s chest bloomed with a breath.

Jaebeom licked his lips. “I’m not promising to be perfect. Because I’m over trying to be perfect. I tried to be perfect for so long and it never made me happy. Now. I just want to love you. Because that’s what makes me happy. And I have to trust that that’s enough.”

“Okay,” Youngjae nodded. “Let’s try it. For real this time.”

Jaebeom smiled. “I wanna kiss you.”

“Then kiss me.”

Jaebeom licked his lips. The hand against his neck pulled him. Jaebeom closed any distance and fit his lips against Youngjae’s. And if felt different now. Jaebeom not hiding any confused intentions and Youngjae not hiding any insecure hesitancies.

Jaebeom pulled away, staying close. His breath warm. “I wanna have you,” Jaebeom whispered.

Youngjae felt the smile breaking across his face. His hand came up to cover Jaebeom’s, locking their fingers together. “Then have me.”

Jaebeom kissed him again, hands combing over his body. They settled on his hips, gripping hard enough to give Youngjae a hint at what was coming.

Jaebeom pulled away, sitting himself in his lap and pulling his shirt off his torso. He gleamed in that midday light, the tone of it warming his neutral skin into something golden. “What?” he smiled downwards, the light catching each one of his teeth.

Youngjae shook his head. “Do you know how long I wanted this? How long I’ve wanted you?”

Jaebeom quieted his smile down to something else. His hands dipping beneath the fabric of Youngjae’s shirt and letting it rise. Fingers splayed over every curve. “Since before I even knew I wanted it too.”

Youngjae pulled himself up, letting Jaebeom pull the shirt over his head before lying back down against the cushion of the tall grass. “When did you know?”

Jaebeom thought for a moment. “When Jinyoung told me to call you. He told me we’d loved each other for a long time. And I thought about protesting. Denying it. But part of me just felt like ‘oh, that’s what that was? This whole time?’”

Youngjae’s heart jackrabbited in his chest. Looking in Jaebeom’s eyes, he knew it was true. That that wildfire was over and had churned up all that ash to grow something new. Something that would breathe new beauty into their landscape.

Jaebeom kissed him again, starting soft but feeling more of Jaebeom’s weight shift towards him until his hands were on either side of his head. He licked at the seam of Youngjae’s lips, parting them. The taste of them sliding together in a perfect match. Turning more heated.

Jaebeom started to move his hips, smooth and slow to start. He grinded down into Youngjae as he kissed him. He sighed into Youngjae’s mouth.

Youngjae’s body ached as if he had already been missing the weight of Jaebeom against him. Missed how his strong hands trailed gently over his skin. Missed how they got hard against each other despite the layers of fabric. And he began to realize that something about it was becoming routine in the same way his dreams of Jaebeom used to be.

Youngjae felt the edge of a whine come up but it died in his throat when Jaebeom picked up the pace of his hips.

Jaebeom must have caught it though because his voice came out deep and husky against his mouth. “You can be loud for me, baby,” he said, between heaving breaths. “There’s no one but us.”

Youngjae felt the heat of the pet name burning his ears, immediately shuttering out a whine that ran through his whole body.

Jaebeom pulled away, continuing the fluid motion of his hips. A question lacing his features and winding them tight.

Youngjae reached his hands up to hold his face. “What is it?” he breathed.

Jaebeom licked his lips. “Can you,” he hesitated. “I wanna…” his voice turning shy and trailing off every time.

Youngjae hummed. A smile growing across his face. “Use your words, hyung.”

Jaebeom sighed. “Youngjae,” he called. “Fuck me please.”

Youngjae scoffed. Tutting his tongue against the back of his teeth. “God, hyung,” he whined. “You’re so needy.” He flipped them, laying over Jaebeom and kissing him again. He broke away from his lips, kissing down his neck and his chest and his stomach. He licked across the skin above his waistband.

Jaebeom bucked his hips upward, eager.

Youngjae pulled away. His hands reached out and started to unbutton his jeans, but Jaebeom’s hand moved quickly into the pocket, pulling out a small bottle of lube and handing it to Youngjae.

“Oh,” Youngjae smirked. “Someone wanted this.”

And Jaebeom bit his lip, nodding back.

Youngjae set it aside and gripped the waistband of his jeans, dragging them off. He slotted himself between Jaebeom’s legs.

Jaebeom’s naked body felt like a wonder of the world and Youngjae couldn’t help but admire it before his eyes landed on how wet and needy he was between them. Youngjae’s hand skirted up his thigh, taking him in his hand. He brought his face close to it, tongue touched to the tip. Tasting the beads of precum where they’d spilled out of his slit.

Jaebeom shuttered underneath him, hands fisting into the grass.

Youngjae took him in, sliding down and feeling the way he filled his mouth. Pulling back up and enjoying the slide of their fluids mixing together. Knowing deep down that he’d be content with doing this all day.

He pulled off Jaebeom momentarily, sticking two fingers in his mouth and letting them slide around. Maintaining Jaebeom’s eye contact as he watched with his mouth open. He took them out and Jaebeom immediately widened his legs, eager. Youngjae positioned his fingers at Jaebeom’s entrance, circling it with a firm touch.

Jaebeom moaned, pushing down against it.

Youngjae slid one finger in, hearing the breath forced from Jaebeom’s chest. He worked it against him, feeling the warmth of the skin softening. He closed his lips back around Jaebeom and started to bob his head in rhythm again.

Jaebeom’s chest was quivering and his mouth was hissing out profanities. Youngjae slid another finger in. Feeling the way Jaebeom widened for him. How his legs started to shake.

Youngjae pulled off completely. “Turn over,” he breathed.

Jaebeom did, planting his hands and knees into the ground. Opening himself up to Youngjae.

Youngjae unbuttoned his pants, sliding them down just far enough to be able to slick himself with lube. He put his hands to Jaebeom’s hip bones, fingers gripping hard. He lined himself up, wasting no time before pushing into him.

Jaebeom hissed, arching his back against Youngjae’s hips. Trying to get it as deep as possible.

Youngjae slid himself out before slamming back in. Feeling the way that Jaebeom jutted forward. Hearing the groan forced out of him.

They slowly worked out a steady pace. Jaebeom matching him, moving back into him as he thrust. Jaebeom’s head falling back, up towards the sun. His mouth a filthy mess of hisses and moans that simmered alongside the brushing grass.

Youngjae reached around him, fisting him again with one hand.

“God damn it, Youngjae,” he bit out, head rolling forwards and back curling up.

Youngjae kept thrusting into him. Kept pumping him in time.

Jaebeom’s knuckles were white, his nails dirty against the grassy floor. His back curling higher and higher. Every part of his body tightening up. “Fuck, baby,” he sobbed out as he came. Drawing out the sound and collapsing down to his elbows.

Youngjae released him, watching how his shoulder blades moved in front of him. Like tectonic plates shifting against each other. He felt his hips stuttered, getting messy and clumsy and trying to focus on the nape of Jaebeom’s neck and how it dotted with sweat, soaking through the raven hair.

He eclipsed. Whining his way through his climax, filling Jaebeom up. When the high started to drop off, he unfurled his hands from Jaebeom’s hips and sank back down onto the grass, alongside Jaebeom. He looked up at the sky. His hand against his chest, feeling the racing of his heart. Like it might never stop.

When he looked over, Jaebeom was looking at him. Crescent eyes and soft smile despite the rise and fall of his chest. “Let’s go home, baby,” he breathed, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

\---

They drove towards home. They sang along to the radio. They laughed till Jaebeom had to steady his hands against the wheel to keep from swerving. And they were nearing the city when they came upon a bridge.

“Let’s stop here,” Jaebeom said, pulling off the side of the road. “I want to take a picture.”

Jaebeom parked and they got out, walking across the bridge until they were at the middle. They leaned into the railing of the bridge and looked out. The sky was a plastering of orange and pink brushstrokes. The sun almost worked past the horizon in the west. The bridge overlooked a small river that snaked towards the city, flowing north into the Han eventually. And it was significant. To think that all small paths lead to something larger.

Jaebeom held up his camera, snapping a few pictures.

“Just a few more minutes until we reach the city limits,” Youngjae said, turning towards him. “You sure you want to do this?”

Jaebeom looked over. His eyes looking down before he stepped closer. Reaching a hand out to draw Youngjae’s hip into his. Their bodies flushed. Jaebeom let his fingers slide under Youngjae’s chin and tilting it just enough to kiss him softly. Both of them melting into each other.

Jaebeom pulled back, looking in Youngjae’s eyes. “I’m sure,” he said.

Youngjae turned looking out over the bridge. And Jaebeom stood behind him. Bracing his arms on either side of the railing. Keeping Youngjae enclosed in his arms.

Jaebeom ducked his mouth low, against the skin of Youngjae’s ear. “This it is,” he whispered.

“This is what?” Youngjae leaned back into him. Feeling his warmth radiating from deep within him.

“This is the best sunset I’ve ever seen,” Jaebeom said, every word laced with a smile.

“Me too, hyung,” Youngjae smiled. “Me too.”


End file.
